Over His Knee - Book One: M/F spanking stories

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Penny got a little cross said “will you be quiet or we’ll be caught and then we’ll see who gets it. I’ve a good mind to wallop you now, am in the mood, Lord knows. If I know Mrs F, tables are about to be turned, which we should watch – so your bottom bare can wait for a spectacle that’s rare – our Vicar is clearly a spanking giver, not receiver and he’s about to get it from Mrs F good and proper, if my name’s not Penny!” A few days after my search, which was frustratingly unsuccessful, I responded to our front doorbell; there was Vera. I called ‘one!’“One, ma’am!” I was corrected. “One, ma’am.” I repeated obediently. “Better,” Val said.

As Vicar spanked she advised in clear stentorian tones: “now Vicar, dear, technique to use is outside in/alternate cheeks then up and down and right to left, then left to right across”. The Vicar complied, fell into a rhythm and the music of hand on bare cheek filled the air. You all know the drill. I countered by saying that I was too old to be spanked, and asked what would happen if I simply refused to submit to the punishment, as she wasn’t my parent nor my teacher. This was actually very untypical and rather daring of me – but Aunt Pam simply said that I was most certainly not too old to be spanked. “Boys are at their naughtiest in their teens – they need more spanking rather than less as they get older!” she said. I’m going to give you a taster of each of my little helpers – three with the cane, three with the slipper and three with the board.”“You can’t make me!” I protested, but with that she called Doreen into the room. There was not a doubt in my mind she meant what she said, and I scurried off to Lucille’s study, where her wooden paddle hung behind the closet door. I had no problem finding it; I’d been sent to fetch it often enough by my late wife. And I realized I was shaking with dread and the slightest dawning of sexual arousal that often accompanied these situations, at least in the beginning moments before the reality of a spanking took over.Every week for many a year, Friday night to be exact, time of the Frobisher family spank. She would preside, magisterially, for all to see through kitchen window the panorama. Over her lap, hems, trousers and panties down, bottoms bare in the air receiving the benison of spanking palm, the household would go – including anyone else to hand. Now all right thinking followers of spank know the old saying that “all is fair when bottoms are bared and spankers are spanked, and all shall be well”. Mrs F followed this through. When she was done, her own cheeks were roasted and toasted in their turn, by the assembled company. It was quite a sight to see. Penny as neighbour had a first-class seat, over the garden fence. Sure enough a ringing instruction rang out, clear as a bell, which was their cue to resume their viewing position: “right, Vicar, I think you’ve covered the terrain. Now we change places and I show you how it’s done. Only fair when bottoms are bare that givers are also receivers”.

My ‘thing’ had always been the excitement of an over-the-knee spanking. I found the thought of being helpless, unable to move or wriggle away, terribly exciting. However, by 14 I had accepted that the chances of being turned over my mum’s knee were long gone, and it was something I was never going to experience. Finally, Aunt Pam asked Doreen to give me three strokes of the cane, while she continued to hold me firmly over her knee. Doreen duly obliged. The cane strokes weren’t too hard, but they did bite. I began a half-hearted attempt at straightening things up, but I couldn’t get into it, and I ended up sitting mindlessly on the couch in front of the TV for most of the rest of the afternoon. There wasn’t anything interesting on, but it didn’t really matter.

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Count the swats out loud, young man – and don’t lose count, or we start over!” It occurred to me at that point that I had no idea how many swats I was going to get. No number had been mentioned that I could recall. Val didn’t waste any time. The paddle was tapped briefly against my bum, and I held my breath and stared at the wall in front of me. I remember actually grinning and not really taking her seriously, and yet feeling quite excited, with a combination of disbelief and adrenalised elation! I asked her if it was true that she’d caned her Rory across his bare bottom, but she just told me that it was none of my business – what was my business right now was my own behaviour. Now it was Tasha’s turn – her long-suffering spanker was getting impatient so she should complete the task , or else. Besides, it was getting a little cold. English graveyards are never warm. So, Tasha without much further ado, unbuttoned the dungarees. The flaps unflapped, hooks were unhooked and buttons undone, until at last the trews and panties came down (not Raeger but M&S) revealing a sight of total delight – a deeper-cheeked rear of width and girth. Penny gave out a cry of delight – “what an inheritance my dearest friend – your splendid bottom bare – which in time will no doubt be passed on to generations yet unborn”. Do you recognize this?” Vera demanded, thrusting a photocopy of the confession and spanking contract I wrote at Lucille’s direction eight years ago. So Tasha over lap, bare in the air, in turn squeezing Penny’s cheeks. She then announced in a while, as all is fair and all is fine with Penny the same touching and patting the target fair, transfixed and with a far away look. Then came the realisastion and the announcement: “Time to swap places, o chum of mine. In three words, it’s my turn! So over my lap you go.” And so it was, and so she did. Give and receive.

I stepped up to it and bent forward – at a stretch, I could just reach the far side. I was on tiptoe and, as it was really warm weather, I was wearing only thin shorts! “Like this?” I asked. “Aha – spread your legs a little wider.” I then felt her hand run over my bottom briefly. She gave my shorts a little tug to pull them tight, then patted my behind a few times gently with her hand. “Perfect!” I heard her say. The two families are still great friends, and we visit each other quite regularly. I have never mentioned anything about that day since to Val, although I’ve always wanted to ask if she was just messing about. I suspect I’ll never get a straight answer. As far as I know, nobody knew anything about that paddling except us two. I certainly didn’t mention it to anyone. On the Sunday morning, Val’s husband asked me if I’d like to join him to go to a ‘coffee meet’ in the Mustang. The other kids my age were not bothered about such things and so we set off, just me and him. That Mustang sounded so sweet – I felt like a movie star. Whap! The hardest so far, it brought tears to my eyes, although I was fortunately not crying like a baby. “Six, ma’am.”It turned out that while we’d been away from the house, the children from the visiting family had discovered a spanking paddle in the basement. Apparently they had been given permission to look through some old boxes for some reason and had found the paddle. When I completed my writing assignment and signed my name, Vera reviewed it and nodded with satisfaction.