The Perfect Wife

I know the sweater that I bought is more than our finances can bear,
And I'll get the oil changed this week, my turtledove, I swear,
It's just that I'm so woozy from being in love with you,
That there are many things around the house that I forget to do.

I know that I'm exasperating, that's why you're strict with me,
Why I must take my panties down, and climb across your knee;
You spank me 'cause you love me, dear, I know it breaks your heart,
But there's no one else I'd rather have
Making my bottom smart!

You're always there for me, my dear, and so I pledge to you,
That I will be the perfect wife, and do what I must do;
I'll be prompt and sweet and thrifty, you'll never have to fret,
You'll never have to spank again-- hm-m...
But not just yet!

Adventures of the Heart

As Roberta once noted, "Her circumstances may be modest, her days seem tame and uneventful. She herself may cast envious glances at the blustering world of men. But, believe me-- women live adventures of the heart mere males can only guess at." I hope you are enjoying these "adventures," such as a woman may meet in the course of her life.

I thought it time to update our guide to the spankings. Men spanking women stories: An Upstate Weekend (Oct. 2009), Spanking Pamela (Oct./Nov. 2009), and The Rainstorm (April 2010). Women spanking women: One Saturday Morning (Dec. 2009), In Old Tennessee (June 2010), Christmas in Colbyville (Nov. 2010), In Loco Parentis (Feb. 2011), Amanda's Vacation (May 2011), and Count on Mom (July 2011). Both holiday poems, ''Twas the Night Before Christmas and Happy New Year! (Nov./Dec. 2009) feature men spanking women. I should add that "Christmas in Colbyville" is a sequel to "In Old Tennessee"; "Count on Mom" is a sequel to "One Saturday Morning."

I hope to upgrade the techie side of things. I'm not really good at that stuff-- I still don't know what's going on with the paragraph breaks on this blog, for example. So I apologize, both for the technical clunkiness and the lapses in grammar. Also, there are fragments of Roberta's writings on scraps of paper and old floppy discs still stored around the place-- I'll have to collect and edit for more lost treasures.

I have activated Blogger's adult content warning but-- there are no sex scenes depicted on this site! In fact, most of the ladies punished even get to keep their panties on. There are some literary appreciations of the female form which may not be suitable for impressionable youngsters, however.

Sometimes

"Sometimes," Roberta remarked to me on one occasion, "just sometimes..." She paused-- "but more often than you would imagine," she admitted with a little laugh, "even good girls get spanked."

Sherry is a good girl...

Read Count on Mom.

Count on Mom

Not long after Ann had been spanked by Karen for neglecting her chores, all four housemates agreed it would be a good idea if they drew up a list of rules for themselves to abide by. And it was agreed that any violations would result in a prompt and public paddling. The resulting list was posted--where else?-- on the refrigerator door, so no one could claim she didn't know the rules. And the sturdy spatula which had so thoroughly warmed Ann's bottom was hung on a hook by the kitchen door, where it served as a constant reminder of proper household conduct.

     And so things hummed along quite nicely among the girls, though, to be frank, all secretly felt that the rules, and the paddle, were being displayed pretty much for Ann's benefit. She was the only one who had been naughty; certainly, none of the other young women routinely stepped out of bounds. But who do you think was next to suffer the indignity of being spanked in front of her friends? Not Ann, certainly-- the memory of her thrashing was still too fresh for her to think of perpetrating new silliness. Not Karen, thoroughly correct Karen, chosen by the others to administer the punishment. Nor practical Linda, who was so efficient, neat, and thoughtful of others.

No, of all people it was Sherry, soft-spoken, sweet-tempered Sherry, the last of the group we would expect to earn a paddling. How could this have come about? Well, it all started with a phone call from her mother....

"Sherry, I'm only forty-eight! I'm not going to crawl into some hole just because your father and I are divorced. Now, listen, Marvin and I are spending the weekend at the lake, and we want you to come up for dinner on Saturday. It would be good for you to get away, and, well, we do have some interesting young men renting this summer that you should really meet."

"Mother, please!" Sherry expostulated. Not only was Madeleine Rinehart always trying to get her daughter married, she was also seeing somebody so soon after the divorce. Well, maybe it wasn't soon exactly. Close to a year, actually.

"Sherry, darling, I love you very much. I always will. And so does your father. He and I will always be friends, but we can't be husband and wife. You're just going to have to get used to it."

The tears were starting even as Sherry hung up. She knew she was being immature. Maybe she did subconsciously want Mom and Dad back together. But she hated to go to the lake to see her mother with-- that man!

So upset was Sherry that she forgot it was Thursday night-- shopping night. Karen was out of town at a teachers' conference, and Sherry had agreed to do the household shopping in her place. Linda, a nurse, was working late and Ann wouldn't return from her sales trip till tomorrow night. So there was no one to remind Sherry of what she had promised to do. The pert little redhead was all alone in the big Victorian house, thinking about Mom, about Dad, about marriage, about the old lake house, and getting more and more upset.

Next morning Linda called her at work.
"There's no coffee, Sherry. Didn't you do the shopping last night?"

"Oh, my God, I forgot! And I have to drive Mr. Johnson to the airport tonight. Can we hold off till Saturday?"

"I have to work today or else I'd do it for you," Linda replied. "But I don't want to fight those crowds this weekend. Besides, I thought you were going to the lake to see your mother."

"I wasn't really looking forward to it. This might be a good excuse to get out of it."

"Whoa, there, sweetheart, I don't think that's such a great idea. There things you and she need to discuss and this sounds like the perfect time."

"Don't you start too, Linda," Sherry pleaded.

Linda persisted. "It's important you go," she continued. "Ann and I will do the shopping on Saturday. No, don't argue, I've made up my mind. But there's just one thing. You are in violation of rule #6: 'All household shopping will be completed by the assigned person on the day designated.'" She paused, then added: "So, Sherry, honey, you can expect a good spanking when you get home tonight."

Sherry sat at her desk dumbfounded. Would Linda actually paddle her?

"Oh, I won't," Linda said candidly. Then she giggled. "But I'm sure Ann would be happy to oblige."

It was after nine o'clock on Friday evening before the three by-now-harried roommates were able to reassemble in the kitchen and talk about the trouble Sherry's forgetfulness would cause.

"After three days at a stupid sales convention, the last place I feel like spending my Saturday is at the supermarket,"Ann remarked heatedly.

"Well, Sherry," asked Linda, wagging her finger, "just what do you have to say for yourself? You did break a posted rule."

"She sure did," a quite-put-out Ann added emphatically.

"I'm sorry, girls," Sherry said. "I know I agreed to the rules just like you did and--" she continued hesitantly, "I agreed to the punishment, too." She stared forlornly at the floor, hands clasped behind her. "So I guess I get a spanking."

"I'm glad you see it that way, Miss," Linda said, somewhat relieved, "because I don't see how you have any way out of it either. So we might as well get it over with right now." She took the spatula down from its hook and handed it to Ann. Ann looked shocked.
"I thought you were going to do it."

"Me? Of course not. I've known Sherry longer than you have. We're too good of friends. You got the last punishment, so now you get to do the spanking."

Ann considered the spatula she was holding. She knew firsthand what it could do to a tender backside. Ann had a temper and was very annoyed at Sherry, but she knew she could never use that paddle on her roommate. She thought about the time Sherry had nursed her through the flu, and of how Sherry had gotten her through the jitters of her last job interview, and the perfect little dress Sherry had lent her for that first date with Paul.

"Sure, I'll spank her-- with a feather!" Ann exclaimed, and she handed the spatula right back to Linda.
Sherry plopped down at the kitchen table and held her head in her hands. She couldn't believe they were going on like this!

"Look," Linda said, "obviously Karen is the one to do it. But she won't be back till Monday. And if she finds out we waited till then, we'll all wind up over her knee!"

"So, what are we going to do?" Ann whined helplessly.

"I think I have a solution," said Linda, brightening. She smiled, quite satisfied with herself. "We'll just tell her mother!"

"You wouldn't!" Sherry gasped.
But Ann's eyes shone with merriment.
"Great idea, Linda!" she said excitedly.

"Ann and I agree, Sherry, so you're outvoted. Like it or not, that's how it will be," Linda spoke with finality.

 Linda made the call. Despite the lateness of the hour and the fact she was driving up to the lake the next morning, Mrs. Rinehart was more than happy to "help out," as she put it, especially where her daughter was concerned. She only asked Linda to tell Sherry to be "properly prepared."

"What did she mean by that, Sherry?" Linda asked.

"It means I'm to wait in the bedroom in my nightclothes," replied a clearly abashed Sherry. She bit her lip. Her mother lived only about ten minutes away. "I'd better get up there."

"Sounds like you've been through this before," Ann commented drily.

"For your information, not since I was seven," Sherry replied, a little heatedly. She said nothing more, but quickly headed upstairs with a worried expression on her face.

"Cup of tea, Mrs. R?" Ann asked as Sherry's mom came in. Ann knew and liked Madeleine Rinehart's brisk, cheerful personality. She had returned to work after raising her children and had become a successful real estate agent. In fact, she had just returned form showing a house when Linda had called. She was still clad in the checked skirt suit she had shown the property in.

"Oh, no, thank you, Ann. I think we should get right to it. Just let me say that I'm glad you girls have such clearly defined rules for getting along. You will all benefit from your foresight."

"Do you need a paddle?" Linda offered. "We have the spatula Ann was spanked with."

"No, thank you, dear. Sherry and I have our own little arrangement, if you don't mind. Now, usually I spank in private, but I understand Sherry saw you get it, Ann, so it's only fair that the two of you accompany me upstairs."

Sherry jumped up quickly when her mother entered the room. She was ready and waiting, wearing a pink nightshirt which ended several inches above her knee.

"I understand my darling daughter has been naughty."

"Yes, mother," a sad little voice answered.

"So you know what you have coming?"

"Yes, mother," came the quiet reply. An even smaller, sadder voice asked, "In front of everyone?"

"They're your friends, darling, and you've caused them a great deal of bother. They have a right to see that you pay for your irresponsibility."

Mrs. Rinehart took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Over Mommy's knee," she said simply.

Sherry complied without hesitation, and Mrs. Rinehart seemed used to just such obedience. The girls surmised that Sherry's last spanking was not quite as long ago as she would have liked them to believe!

As Sherry stretched over her mother's lap, the short nightie crept up her thights as the twin arches of her shapely bottom pulled the fabric tight. No one said a word, no one so much as breathed as Mrs. Rinehart delicately lifted the tail of Sherry's nightie. The roommates were instantly aware that Sherry had foregone the pair of panties she usually wore for modesty's sake. This, evidently, was also what was meant by being "properly prepared." The twin mounds of snow-white flesh glowed in the pool of light from the lamp on the bedside table. Sherry gave a little whimper and hid her face in the bedcovers, while Madeleine's long, manicured fingers smoothed and patted the girl's nervously twitching bottom.

"Mommy doesn't like to spank, Sherry dear, but sometimes she has to. When a girl misbehaves, she has to suffer the consequences." She paused, collecting her thoughts.
"It's very frustrating to need something around the house, and then to find it is unavailable, due to someone's negligence. You let your friends down by your thoughtlessness, is that correct, dear?"

"Yes, mother," Sherry answered hastily. Linda saw the soft, pillowy buttocks quiver and flinch as Madeleine's hand hovered menacingly. Then: SMACK! "Shame on..."SMACK! SMACK!"..you!" SMACK! "At your age!" SMACK! SMACK!

Before Linda or Ann knew it, fifteen or twenty sharp staccato notes had sounded on the upraised bottom, and pink roses were blooming all over Sherry's snowy flanks.

"I'm sorry, mother, I'm sorry," a quavery voice came from the bedcovers.

Mrs. Rinehart stroked the stinging cheeks soothingly. "Good, dear, I hope you take this lesson to heart." Mrs. Rinehart maintained an even, upbeat tone in her voice, as if trying to convey to her daughter her firm belief that Sherry's behavior in the future would be flawless.

As Sherry cried her tears of pain and remorse, her roommates, taken a bit aback by the flurry of spanks, thought, well, good--short and sweet, that's the way to get it over with.

But Madeleine kept Sherry over her knee. She noted the pinkness of Sherry's bottom, then continued. "Now, dear, why didn't the shopping get done?"

"Because I forgot."

"And why did you forget?"

"Because I...I..."

"Because you were moping, isn't that right, dear? You don't like me dating and you didn't want to go the lake to meet Marvin. You could have discussed the matter with me further, or called a friend, or taken a bubble bath, for heaven's sake. Instead, you acted in the most immature way possible. And I've spanked you for this before, haven't I?"

"Yes, mama."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The strokes came at a more measured pace. Each healthy wallop landed dead center on Sherry's upraised tush. Ann and Linda watched in fascination as the imprint of Mrs. R's hand on Sherry's bottom deepened and colored. For the next minute or two, there was no sound but that of Mrs. R's palm on bare flesh, till at length she paused again.

"Now, a girl who mopes gets in trouble lots of ways," Madeleine intimated as her daughter sobbed miserably. "Has anything happened at work recently?"

"Oh, mother," Sherry moaned. It was one thing to be spanked, another thing to be spanked bare-bottom, a third thing to be spanked in front of your friends, and now to be subjected to this humiliating line of questioning! This spanking had turned out to be about a thousand times more embarrassing than Sherry had anticipated. She had no choice but to confess to further failings.

"I couldn't keep my mind on my work yesterday. I forgot to notify Mr. Johnson and he almost missed an important meeting."

Madeleine tsked and shook her head. "Some secretary you are! Can you really afford to lose your job?" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! This time Sherry's flanks received more attention, till the whole expanse of her bottom was glowing a bright red. Having lost the last traces of her dignity, Sherry began involuntarily to twist and kick the bedcovers. Far from being perturbed, Mrs. R seemed pleased by such girlish reaction. Her work was having its effect. After all, a young girl can learn to mend her ways, whereas a stubborn, unrepentant young woman is merely obnoxious.

Suddenly, Mrs. R burst out laughing. "The next time I see Mr. Johnson, I'll tell him not to fire you, Sherry, since you've already been spanked!"

"Mother, no!" Sherry gasped through her tears, then she too couldn't help but laugh. She propped herself up and turne to look at her mother. "Mom, only you could make me laugh in the middle of a spanking!"

"Well, I'm glad you can laugh, dear. I know this hasn't been easy for you, nor, I think, for your roommates. But we do have one more thing to discuss." Everyone got serious again very quickly. "Ten more spanks, Sherry, for the disrespect you've shown Marvin and me. While I spank you, I want you to think about how much I love you, and how I always will love and look after you to the best of my ability."

The spanks came slowly, not real hard, and Sherry accepted them somberly, and pondered as she had been told. Two final little pats on her flaming fanny told her the spanking was over. She pulled down her nightie and unabashedly cuddled on her mother's lap.

"Thanks, Mom. I really needed that," she said quietly. Madeleine kissed her warmly and stroked her hair.

"There are many tears in life, Sherry, but, you know, they usually end like this, in hugs and kisses." She looked at the beaming faces of her daughter's roommates. " I want to thank you girls for giving me the opportunity of spanking Sherry again. Linda, you're our nurse, could you see to it that Sherry's bottom gets some cooling lotion? And, Ann, that cup of tea sounds delightful!"

Sherry slept soundly and late, but made it to the lake by two. The drive wasn't bad, though she was glad she had brought the pillow to sit on on the way up. Dinner was nice, and she guessed that maybe Marvin was kind of cute. Most of all she noticed how happy her mother was around him. And, yes, Mom was right, she did meet some very interesting young men. Mom was always right.  After all, maybe, just maybe, last night's tears would lead to more hugs and kisses than she had ever imagined!

A Little Understanding, Please

We've all experienced it: the bad joke at the elegant dinner party, the pointed question at the job interview, the desperate explaining to the highway patrolman. Situations that get tense, hair-trigger. A careless remark, the wrong word, some wounded pride-- who knows what may happen? Pity poor Amanda, who intends only to be on vacation. A simple matter becomes suddenly complex. How can things go so horribly, horribly wrong?

Read Amanda's Vacation.

Amanda's Vacation

Amanda wiped the rich Minnesota soil from her hands and surveyed her sister's flower garden. Zinnias and marigolds were already popping up into the May sunshine. Amanda was satisfied by a good afternoon's work among the seedlings Carol had lovingly started weeks ago. It was warmer than usual this year, Amanda thought. Hotter than back East. But Amanda was very glad she had accepted her sister's invitation to visit with her and Jason and the kids.

The kids! Cindy, the younger Stafford child, was still in school and Amanda had promised to pick her up while Carol shopped for groceries. Amanda looked at her watch. Half past two! She'd better get going. She looked over her outfit. She had on a very brief pair of white shorts and a bright red sleeveless top. It wasn't that she wanted to traipse through the hallowed halls of the Henderson School for Girls dressed like this, but she really didn't have time to change. They would understand.

Amanda parked her Escort under a Scotch pine behind the school library. She had hoped to see Cindy among the knots of girls walking toward the huge wrought iron gates of the school, but evidently the younger students were not permitted the liberty of such free exit. Amanda walked toward what looked like a side entrance.

"Young lady, where are you going?"

Amanda was twenty-four, almost finished her graduate work in sociology, and she was not used to being addressed as "young lady." She turned to find an older woman, a teacher perhaps, peering at her through old-fashioned pince-nez lenses.

"I was looking for Miss Norman's third grade class. I'm here to pick up Cindy Stafford."

"Not looking like that, I'm afraid. This is a private school, young lady, and we have strict rules of dress."

"I just need to pick up my niece. I'll only be a minute," Amanda replied, a little heatedly.

"It's out of the question. You cannot go through the halls looking as you do. It will set a bad example. My name is Miss Harper. I'll lead you to the office and you can wait until Cindy is called. Please follow me."

The woman turned and started down the hall. Amanda felt that she had in some way triumphed, until she suddenly considered that she was being conducted along like some miscreant schoolgirl.

Miss Harper opened a door at the end of the hall marked "Administration." Beneath was the inscription: "Dr. Olivia Bannister, Headmistress." Miss Harper turned to Amanda and said, "Please wait here. I'll bring Cindy to the office."

Amanda stepped in and a gray-haired secretary looked up from her desk. She could not suppress a look of surprise tinged with amusement.

"Are you here to see the Headmistress?"

Amanda could imagine the "...looking like that?" which belonged at the end of the question.

"No. Miss Harper insisted I wait here while she fetched my niece," replied Amanda in what she hoped was a civil tone of voice. Miss Harper--! Miss Busybody was more like it! She took a seat on a row of wooden chairs placed along the wall.

Boy, sighed Amanda, I lose track of time and look what happens. How do I wind up in these situations? Oh, well, Cindy will be here any minute and we can get out of here. Feeling the cool of the wood on the back of her bare thighs made Amanda very self-conscious.

Just then the door to the office opened and in walked a vigorous woman of about forty years. She was tall and imposing, with dark, piercing brown eyes and an attractive frankness of expression. She wore a pencil skirt of summer-weight wool and an elegant crepe blouse adorned with a brooch. Her long auburn hair was piled neatly atop her head. She had about her an air of quiet command.

Amanda felt herself shrink a little under her gaze. This, no doubt, was the Headmistress.

"And what have we here?" the Headmistress queried.

"I-I'm here to pick up my niece," Amanda stammered.

"I'm Dr. Bannister, the Headmistress. I think I should tell you, that we have certain rules of dress here that pertain to everyone who comes into the school. And your dress certainly does not meet standards."

"Well, if you would simply allow me to get my neice, I will be glad to be out of here," replied Amanda icily.

Dr. Bannister looked down at her for what seemed to be ages.

"Young lady, you and I need to have a talk."


The office of the Headmistress was cool and quiet. It was more home-like, Amanda thought. She noted a formal yet comfortable-looking sofa with end tables along the far wall as she took a seat in one of two straight-backed chairs facing Dr. Bannister's polished mahogany desk.

Why, oh why, hadn't she slipped on a skirt before she left the house? Oh, well. Amanda resigned herself to a talking-to, but she certainly wasn't going to sit still for much. She would listen politely and then have her say.

It was quite a scolding, no doubt about it. Amanda couldn't get a word in. Dr. Bannister was emphatic about the need for good example. The dress code must be followed at all times. And look at the situation Amanda had put her in: if she simply allowed Amanda to take Cindy home, then anyone could show up wearing anything they pleased, as long as they were in the school for only a few minutes. The school might as well have no dress code at all. The students could show up in jeans! But what bothered Dr. Bannister the most was Amanda's uncooperative attitude and lack of respect.

Amanda was stung. But still, she felt she had to plead her case. She was in a hurry this afternoon, that's all. She had lost track of time. Was that so terrible? And maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the students did show up in jeans! She wouldn't be talked to like this - she was not a schoolgirl! She was a busy graduate student on vacation and she wasn't going to allow some silly rule to spoil her time off!

Amanda finished her tirade, furious, and folded her arms. Dr. Bannister gazed at her steadily. Then she spoke.

"I will not allow you to take that attitude, nor use that tone of voice with me, Amanda. Perhaps it's not a vacation you need. Perhaps what you need is a good spanking."

Amanda gave a little laugh. "Really, Doctor," Amanda said, then her voice trailed off. The expression on Dr. Bannister's face was not one of levity.

"Yes, Miss?" asked the Headmistress. "Do you think yourself too old for a paddling? It's quite within my line of work, you know. You wouldn't be the first young lady to go across my knee and have her bottom warmed."

Amanda was momentarily taken aback by Dr. Bannister's words. It should have occurred to her that this woman was capable of administering such punishment, but unthinkingly Amanda let her temper get her even deeper into trouble.

"You petty tyrant, you wouldn't dare!"

The Headmistress remained calm.

"This is not a petty affair, Amanda, believe me. Though you are of mature years, you are lacking in discipline and comportment. You shall receive a paddling for your intemperate behavior, and I shall give it to you."

There was no edge at all in Dr. Bannister's voice. She had seen many feminine outbursts before, and she would handle this one as she always did, without losing her composure.

"Really, Doctor, can we not discuss this some other time? Cindy and I have got to be going." Amanda hoped the whole business would be instantly forgotten.

"Certainly, my door is always open for a discussion later," said Dr. Bannister, "but this afternoon-- you have a spanking coming."

She arose and went to the door. Opening it part way, she asked the secretary to see to it that they were not disturbed "for the next several minutes." Then she turned and looked at Amanda.

"Well, are we ready?"

Amanda could hardly think at all. She had always feared corporal punishment. In fact, she had never been spanked as a child. The one time she had been threatened with a spanking she had lied her way out of it. Was she now to get the paddling she deserved then?

Perhaps she could just leave. Just march out the door. And be thought a coward?

"Don't dawdle, dear. It's usually better to get it over with quickly."

Dr. Bannister walked toward the sofa. Before she sat down she went to an end table, and, opening the drawer, took out a handy little leathern paddle.

Oh, good gracious, I am really, really going to get it, thought Amanda. Should she plead? Would tears save her?

"Dr. Bannister, you're right, I'm sorry we had this argument..."

Dr. Bannister cut her short.

"I can see, Amanda, that you've not yet made up your mind that you're to be punished. I suggest you do so, because you are going to be spanked. Now, take off those shorts, and come here across my knee. You may keep your panties on."

It was with some effort that Amanda kept back the tears. She couldn't believe this was happening to her, but she resigned herself to her fate.

Slowly, she did as she was told. She slipped off her shorts and put them aside. Automatically she assured herself that her panties were completely covering the cheeks of her buttocks. They were a pair of white silk panties, perfect for warmer weather. They were, Amanda thought suddenly, very sheer. Amanda felt very exposed. She stood shyly before the Headmistress, hands crossed behind her.

Dr. Bannister simply held out her hand and said, "Come now, child." Amanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As she stepped toward the sofa she bent herself over Dr. Bannister's lap. She felt the slight scratchiness of a wool skirt under her thighs as Dr. Bannister grasped her firmly about the waist. Amanda now knew for sure there would be no reprieve. She turned her head, but could catch only a glimpse of her upturned buttocks. Amanda fervently hoped it wouldn't hurt too much. Her bottom felt cool and defenseless, tingling with anticipation of the first blow.

But, oh, it did hurt! Each spank stung and sounded loudly on her poor bottom. Amanda tried to be brave, but she just couldn't bear the smarting. After about a dozen spanks, she began to wiggle around, vainly trying to escape the paddle.

"Amanda, the more you squirm, the longer this spanking will be. Now be still!"

Amanda swallowed hard. No angry retort came to mind now.

"Yes, ma'am," she quavered meekly.

Dr. Bannister resumed, administering another series of swats. Amanda felt her buttocks quiver under each stinging smack. She did better this time, but as her bottom grew hotter and hotter, each spank hurt all the more! She felt herself at wit's end when Dr. Bannister spoke again, in a soothing and encouraging tone.

"First spankings can be so hard, Amanda, and yours is not over yet. I will just remind you that it's no shame being spanked, even at your age. The real shame is bad behavior that goes uncorrected."

First spanking? How did Dr. Bannister know? Was her lack of discipline so obvious to everyone? Humiliating as it was, Amanda resolved to persevere to the end of her punishment.

Dr. Bannister decided on ten more swats to each cheek for good measure, firmly applied. Finally, it was over.

"You can get up now, Amanda."

Dr. Bannister released her grip but Amanda just lay still, feeling the sharp warmth in her bottom, as tears rolled from her eyes.

"You were very brave, child. How do you feel?"

"I'm OK, ma'am." Amanda got up a bit shakily, relieved it was over, but she was proud that she had been called brave.

"In fact," she smiled, "I'm better than when I came in. Oh, Dr. Bannister, I'm almost glad you spanked me. And I'm really sorry about how dreadfully I acted towards everyone, including you."

"All's forgiven, and forgotten, dear."

With that, Dr. Bannister gathered Amanda in her arms and gave her a big hug.

"Now I think you'd better get back into your clothes, and together we'll get Cindy. I'm not such an old meanie, you know. Do come to visit again before you leave."

Amanda managed a grin.

"Properly dressed?" she asked mischievously.

"Properly dressed," replied the Headmistress.




[Photo by lavilleautady at flickr.com]

In Loco Parentis--Part II

Upstairs Kim couldn't sit still. Mrs. Dayton's tone of voice had done nothing to soothe her jangled nerves. Kim feared that Mrs. Dayton wanted more from her than a promise to do better.

Mrs. Dayton, ever polite, knocked gently and entered. In her hand was her wide, flat, oval wooden hairbrush. Kim's heart went to her throat.

Mrs. Dayton began quietly but firmly. "I hope you realize, dear, that what took place downstairs was hardly the spanking you deserve. I'm afraid my husband is rather too easy on you girls. He plays the gruff disciplinarian, but he's really an old softie."

She sat down solemnly on the edge of the bed.

"Now take off those blue jeans, young lady, and get over my knee."

Kim gulped, but again, her trust of Mrs. Dayton overcame her hesitation. She slowly removed her jeans, neatly folding them and hanging them over the back of her desk chair. (Mrs. Dayton hated picking up after them!) She felt a bit ridiculous in her pink panties and purple socks, but how she looked was the least of her worries. She couldn't take her eyes off the hairbrush. It wasn't as fearsome-looking as the paddle, but close in on a properly positioned subject-- it could be singularly effective!

"Don't dawdle, child, it just makes it harder for both of us."

When Kim made no movement, Mrs. Dayton simply reached over with an exasperated sigh, grabbed Kim by the elbow, and peremptorily hauled her across her lap. Kim barely had time to catch a glimpse of her upturned tush before Mrs. Dayton had laid the cool wood against her bottom, raised the hairbrush high, and delivered the first smart swat: CRACK!
 

"Ow-w, Mrs. Dayton, that hurts!" Kim complained, but Mrs. Dayton seemed not to hear. Indeed, further protest was rendered impossible by a flurry of spanks which left Kim breathless. Once aroused, Mrs. Dayton proved relentless. She was quite well-practiced in this motherly art, having taken over for Mr. Dayton on other occasions. Her arm operated with machine-like rapidity in adminstering the strokes, while at the same time her eye scanned Kim's hindquarters, making sure every part of that ample female bottom received its peppering of stinging smacks.

"Ouch, please stop, Mrs. Dayton," said Kim, regaining her voice,"I've Ouch! learned my lesson."

"A girl of your intelligence!" CRACK! CRACK! "To bring an 'F' home!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

"Oh, Mrs. Dayton, I'm sorry!" Kim wailed piteously, but Mrs. Dayton was unmoved.

"Not sorry enough, I'm afraid," she remarked as the hailstorm of spanks continued unabated. It wasn't until she had laid on several dozen solid licks that Mrs. Dayton relented, allowing Kim to slip to her knees and lay her tearful head on Mrs. Dayton's lap.
 

Mrs. Dayton stroked the girl's hair soothingly.
 

"I don't enjoy this any more than you do, dear. But you have to be properly punished. And to be perfectly honest, I think you deserve a good two dozen more."
 

Kim whimpered.

"But I'll tell you what, dear. Rest a little now while we discuss corrective behavior. Then, you can choose: the rest of your spanks with the hairbrush as before, or forty with my hand, on your bare bottom."

Mrs. Dayton paused, then spoke.
 

"First of all, Kim, you need daily study time. Every single night. I think for the time being your curfew will be 10 PM. And to further encourage regular habits, I am putting you in charge of making breakfast for us all each morning. Nothing fancy, toast and cereal is fine. Just remember that Mr. Dayton leaves the house every morning promptly at eight."
 

Her voice grew warmer.
 

"Second, why can't you be kinder to Kathleen? She is somewhat in awe of you, you know. You could help one another."

"Kathleen is in awe ... of me?"

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Dayton smiled, "she rather admires your way with the young men. There are things she doesn't dare ask me that you could help her with."

Kim brightened.

"So it's still all right for me to go out?"

"Oh, yes, dear-- once you've made some progress with your marks, of course. A young woman needs a social life. Just remember, though, your college years are a precious time for study. After all," she added dismissively, "there are always men!"

Kim had feared she would never be allowed to date again, but now she was hearing this. Evidently, there was more to Mrs. Dayton than she had ever dreamed. Her heart warmed to the woman who had just spanked her so hard.
 

She got to her feet.

"I'll do as you say, Mrs. Dayton. And I'm ready for the rest of my punishment," she added bravely. "Please spank me with your hand."

Mrs. Dayton knew Kim was only trying to make it easier on herself, but that 'please spank me' was music to her ears. Almost a year at college and finally the girl was learning something!
 

Mrs. Dayton now positioned herself farther back on the bed, so that Kim had to climb in childlike fashion across Mrs. Dayton's waiting lap. Kim's feet were fully off the floor-- there would be no backsliding this time! Mrs. Dayton eased Kim's panties over her blazing cheeks, taking them down to mid-thigh. Fresh tears welled up in Kim's eyes at this further humiliation, but she kept her buttocks still and accepting of punishment.
 

"One more thing before I continue," Mrs. Dayton stated firmly. "I insist you find a new study partner. You and Susan do not seem to accomplish very much on your trips to the library."
 

At this, the figure who had been kneeling for some time in the hall peering in the keyhole suddenly drew back, got quietly to her feet, and padded quickly back to her room.
 

Mrs. Dayton took a moment to survey Kim's shapely bottom. Forty spanks would be plenty to even out the angry red splotches the hairbrush had left into a nice, even, rosy glow.

She didn't lecture. She didn't have to. The submissive way Kim accepted the hearty slaps deeply gratified the older woman, so much so that the last half dozen spanks became playful little taps instead of punishing blows.
 

"That hurt, Mrs. Dayton, but I want you to know I'm really sorry and to thank..."--this last part was hard--"to thank you for spanking me."

"That's quite all right, dear. I guess it's part of my job. I suggest you get into your nightclothes, and perhaps you'd like something to eat. It's been a long evening for all of us, and you didn't have any dinner."

 

The journey from folly to repentance was indeed an arduous one and apt to sharpen the appetite, thought Mrs. Dayton as she watched Kim and Susan tear into the pizza they had ordered. The little party had turned into a real gabfest by the time Mr. Dayton got back.
 

"I see you are none the worse for wear after your paddling, Kim," he said. "No hard feelings, I hope?"

Kim smiled shyly, and glanced at Mrs. Dayton. She would keep their secret.

"No hard feelings, Mr. Dayton," she replied cheerfully.
 

"Good. I'll be off to bed then. Store opens early, you know."

Just after 11, Kathleen returned.
 

"Hey, pizza and everything!" she exclaimed. "Looks like this is where all the action is." Did bad girls always have all the fun? she thought to herself sullenly. "I had a perfectly boring evening at the Koffe Kup. Nobody there but some Tau Thetas."
 

"Tau Theta boys!" Kim giggled. "And you didn't have any fun? Kath, you and I need to have a talk. Better yet, we'll hit the Koffee Kup together some night soon."
 

Kim caught Mrs. Dayton's glance.
 

"With your approval, of course, Mrs. Dayton."
 

"Of course you may," Mrs. Dayton smiled.
 

"You know, Kim," Kathleen said quietly, "I'd like that."

Not long afterwards the lights in the big old Victorian began to go out, one by one. Mr. Dayton fell right to sleep. Business had been brisk, and why not-- his was a reputable establishment, and he provided a valuable service. Mrs. Dayton lay quietly at his side. She, too, was satisfied with the night's work. Her young charges were all safe in their nest now. How precociously wise they were one minute, how childishly impulsive the next! Never mind, she would be there, ready to guide and protect.
 

The light still burned in Susan's room, as she took a long look at her books. This stuff isn't that hard, she thought. I can master it. C's won't cut it for me anymore, she resolved.

In the next room Kathleen lay awake, her face aglow with excitement. She was happy about her marks, and she looked forward to going out with Kim. There were so many things to know, so many people to meet!
 

Upstairs, Kim, face down beneath the coverlet, felt herself drifting off to sleep. There was a warm, sweet throbbing in her bottom that seem to spread throughout her whole being. Never had she felt so loved and secure! She was quite sure, in a dreamy sort of way, that there was a man out there whose job it would be to make her feel this way forever. In the meantime, she thought to herself, she would count on the Daytons.

Meanwhile, across town, across campus, Jake stared out the window of his room in Tau Theta house. He could have any girl on campus, he thought-- why was he so intrigued by this one? That story she had given him: she lived off-campus, but he couldn't come with her? What gives there? He wondered where she was partying tonight.

Oh, well, he'd have to wait till he saw her in class again. He snapped off his desk lamp and decided to turn in.

In Loco Parentis-Part I

"Kim, where are you going? I thought you lived here, in Hillman."

Kim looked up at the massive high-rise, then appreciatively eyed her fellow student, Jake. She admired the muscled arms, the chiseled jaw, the eager, sparkling blue eyes. Jake had walked her all the way across campus for this moment. Kim knew what he was thinking: an afternoon's fun with a willing female in the warren of rooms up in the coed dorm.

"No, Jake, sorry. I moved out after last semester. I'm in ILP housing now."

"ILP housing? What's that?"

Kim smiled, a bit ruefully.

"I don't remember what it stands for, exactly. It does mean I live off-campus, but no, I can't take you home with me. Listen, I'll see you next class, OK?"

There was no way he could hide his look of disappointment.

"Well, yeah, OK, next class then."

I...L...P...let's see, Kim pondered as she walked the quiet, tree-lined streets of town, a world away from the anonymous bustle of the campus. In Loco Parentis, yes, that was it-- Latin for "in place of the parents." Yep, that's what I signed up for, Kim sighed to herself. She had had a rough first semester, two F's, one D and one Incomplete. Her academic counselor had suggested ILP housing, a program where students were matched with local families and lived in their homes. It was supposed to benefit the students, and improve town/gown relations as well. And so far it had worked out. Kim loved her little attic room in the spacious Victorian home of Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Dayton, and she got along well with the other girls living there, Kathleen and Susan. Well, with Susan anyway, Kathleen was sometimes hard to take. Mr. Dayton was a pharmacist and had a store in town, while Mrs. Dayton kept the whole household running efficiently. Kim found the Daytons a bit old-fashioned, it was true, but really very kind, and they seemed genuinely interested in their charges. And it had done her good, Kim had to admit, to live away from the noise, the parties, the beer, and the boys. Especially the boys. Not that she had given up those things entirely. On more than one occasion Susie had covered for her, telling Mrs. Dayton that she and Kim had been studying together at the library, when really one or both of them had been out partying. I guess I went a little too far with that sort of thing, Kim thought worriedly as she climbed the porch steps. There was a pang of anxiety in the pit of her stomach as she felt for the midterm grade report in the pocket of her jacket. She had only one F this time, but she knew her usual alibis wouldn't wash now. Last semester Kim had tossed her midterm marks aside and hadn't give them a second thought. This year she would have to show her grades to Mrs. Dayton.

Mrs. Dayton was at the dining room table, folding freshly-laundered kitchen towels. Kim tried to slip right up the stairs to her room, but Mrs. Dayton called to her cheerily.

"Why, Kim, there you are! Do come in and show me your grades. Kathleen and Susan are already home and they did fine. Kathleen all A's, I'm so proud of her! Susan did OK, too many C's, though, in my opinion."

Kim stood silent and forlorn.

"What's the matter, dear? Didn't you get your report?"

Kim just mumbled something, then reluctantly proffered the crumpled sheet. A cloud passed over Mrs. Dayton's normally placid features. She definitely did not like what she was seeing! Mrs. Dayton had raised a daughter of her own, now married, but girls today could be so exasperating! Some of them simply lacked self-discipline. She took a moment to compose herself before speaking.

"I must say I find this disappointing, Kim. I work hard to provide a good study environment for you girls. However, " she stated calmly as she stood and smoothed her skirt, "we'll discuss this after dinner." Kim could see that Mrs. Dayton was hurt, and the dignified way she voiced her disapproval only made Kim feel more miserable. Kim just wanted to run and hide.

"I'm really not hungry, Mrs. Dayton. I think I'll skip dinner tonight."

"As you wish, child. But I suggest you stay to your room. Mr. Dayton will want to speak to you."

Alone in her room, Kim was depleting her personal stash of Doritos as she contemplated the current mess she was in. At first she had been happy to be away from them all-- Kathleen was probably gushing over her straight A's. But now she was not so sure. Maybe she was in disgrace. After all, here she was in her room, nervous as a naughty schoolgirl, awaiting a summons from Daddy! Last semester after she had gotten her grades, she had gone out with some really great guys she knew who were always ready to party. After a joint and a couple of beers, Kim had managed to place the blame for that disastrous first semester on everybody but herself. Now she was in the ILP program. She wanted to feel sorry for herself-- so why was she thinking, despite her nervousness, that it was the best thing that could have happened to her?

Just then Susan knocked and stuck her head in the door.

"Kim, they want you downstairs. Boy, are you in for it!"

As she came down the stairs, Kim could hear Mrs. Dayton talking to Kathleen. "I just think it would be good for you to get out, dear. I know it's a weeknight, but you deserve a break from your studies."

Kathleen laughed gaily.

"I guess you're right, Mrs. Dayton. I could use a night out. Maybe I'll head over to the Koffee Kup."

"Yes, run along and have a good time. And, Kathleen-- back by midnight, please."

As Kathleen headed out, Mrs. Dayton turned and grimly gestured Kim toward the dining room. Why, thought Kim to herself, was one of the chairs turned away from the table? Then she saw Mr. Dayton-- and the paddle. Mr. Dayton cleared his throat uncomfotably, then spoke in his shy, formal way.

"As you know, Kim, ILP students share not only their hosts' homes, but agree to abide by their rules as well. Mrs. Dayton and I take an 'F' very seriously, and we have decided to act as if you were our own daughter. I'm afraid you've earned yourself a paddling, young lady. Now turn around and grasp the arms of the chair."

Kim had not expected this!

"Mr. Dayton, please, it's only a midterm mark."

"Which means, Kim, that we have caught this in time. This spanking becomes all the more effective, because we can still save the semester," Mrs. Dayton explained as she took Kim by the arm and led her to the chair. Kim was shocked. Mrs. Dayton was in on this, too! She instinctively obeyed the older woman though, bending herself slightly over the seat of the chair as Mr. Dayton drew near to deliver the swats.

"Really, does Susan have to watch?" Kim cried as she noticed her friend standing wide-eyed at the back of the room.

"We thought it might be instructive if Susan saw what happened to girls who get 'F's," Mr. Dayton explained. "her own grades are hardly exemplary."

Kim decided that she would allow them to go through with this silly business. She knew ILP housing was a privilege that could be revoked at any time. It was just her luck that she got stuck with a couple of old fogies. Old fogies who cared...oh, well...please, God, don't let it hurt too much. And, actually, it wasn't too bad. The paddle looked scary, but Mr. Dayton smacked her slowly and not very hard. It sounded worse than it was, Kim decided. Not that she was enjoying it. As a thoroughly modern young college woman, she felt she should be quite outraged, and so she resisted, in her feminine way. She "ouched" once or twice, she wiggled her behind, and, after five or six strokes, she turned and batted her eyelids at Mr. Dayton. "Oh, please, please stop!" she exclaimed breathlessly. He hung on for two more strokes-- and that was it.

"I am sorry I had to do this, Kim, but I hope you have learned your lesson," Mr. Dayton intoned gravely. He looked at Susan. "You, too, young lady."

Neither girl noticed Mrs. Dayton rolling her eyes heavenward in exasperation.

"My assistant has called out sick, and I must return to the store this evening," Mr. Dayton stated. "I leave Mrs. Dayton to look after you."

As he stepped from the room, Kim checked with damage control. Beneath her jeans and panties her bottom seemed unusually sensitive. It felt all warm and tingly in an unfamiliar way, but it really didn't ache. Of course, she was embarrassed at having been punished in such a juvenile fashion. But all in all, it hadn't been too awful. The thought was just beginning to cross her mind that she had gotten away with something, when Mrs. Dayton spoke.

"Susan, I suggest you go to your room and study. And you, Kim-- go to your room also. I will be in to see you shortly."

Part II

[Photo: Univ. of Washington Quad by nordique at flickr.com]