The Call of the Spanked Bottom: Six stories of M/F bare bottom discipline (Stories Of Spanked Women)

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Lowering her in his powerful arms, he lay her on their dark cherry wood floor. Tiny repeated ripples stole her conscience sex as he settled beside her. She took hold of my chin and looked me in the eye. “You’ve got the face of an angel and hands that are a gift from God. Now let’s see if you’ve got a nice little bottom that the Lord made for spanking, shall we? Take your trousers down!” Finally, she turned to me, all smiles and said: “Well, Asher, I think we have an understanding now, don’t you? And now you’ve met my little helpers!” Tom stayed for tea. I sat uncomfortably. Mum caught my eye on and off and smiled knowingly. Dad came home and asked me how my day had been. I told him it had been the best birthday ever – which was true.

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However, there was no doubt about what would happen to me should I not behave myself on this trip. Our parents knew each other from church and like most of the parents there, spanking was their ‘go to’ punishmentfor naughty children! I should add that Hannah and her parents were one of the few people outside my family who knew about me being a bedwetter and using diapers at night. A poor crying Karen thought it was over, but Mummy was reaching for the slipper. Karen looked to the mirror and saw it, she looked over her shoulder, up to meet her Mummy’s eyes. I can’t, can’t I?” Vera said, a glint of purpose in her eye. “Shall we put that statement to the test?” not expected Marianne’s hand would be this effective a punishment device. I didn’t want to act childish in front of Of course it was different, because it wasn’t my mum. But once I was dangling over her knee, the experience felt very similar. At least I was now dressed in jeans, so I had a little more protection for my rear end.Once we had all been given a good hiding, Mother again called on the guilty party to confess. Of course, nobody did. For one thing we were all far too busy crying, nursing our sore bums, and of course we all feared confession would lead to another dose of that slipper, or worse. Hi and thanks for being willing to read this. It has began so hard for me to handle it lately, therefore I chose to confide anonymously in a forum... I find it safer... I guess I wouldn't be able to tell any therapist in real life... On the second day, things took an unexpected turn, while we were all at a neighbourhood playground. Kristie was playing on the jungle gym, while Denise and I took turns on the slide. Kate and Dad sat at a nearby picnic table, talking and watching us.

my birthday – Maman: spanking memories: mothers Bared for my birthday – Maman: spanking memories: mothers

After Viennese shortbread accompanying rose-petal panna cotta, she drew Mrs. Davenport aside while their men chatted. Her discreet stinging bottom had lasted an hour, settling into a pleasant promise.So to my intense embarrassment, I had to pull down my pants and show off my (very red and sore) bottom again – but it was better than a ‘top up’ over Dad’s knee right then.

Shona’s knickers - Maman: spanking memories: mothers Shona’s knickers - Maman: spanking memories: mothers

Given her lengthy attitude, it was a just punishment. Ache would deepen, disciplining her for several days. On the first day of my visit, we all hit it off great. Kate was very nice to me, and Denise and Kristie were a lot of fun to play with. Moreover, I thought Kate very pretty, and developed a crush on her almost immediately.

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I brewed a pot of coffee and took a cup to Vera, prepared as she’d requested (no need to be boorish, even if she had been a little rude in the manner of her request). Mummy was a perfect product of the 1950’s. A dutiful housewife who had kept an excellent house since the day she married. Sadly her husband was no longer around, but stoically, with a stiff upper lip and a gallon of fortitude, she had carried on running the house, her home, with pride. Karen liked the strange feeling she felt (in a certain in a certain intimate area) at being exposed.