Angela’s story continues.

“Hi.” I said shyly emerging from the haven of the bedroom.

Alec was about David’s age, but taller and greyer at the temples. Nan was a striking blonde, much younger than Alec, mid to late 20s at most.

“This is Angela. Angela this is Alec and Nan.” David introduced us ignoring my vivid blush.

“We met briefly.” Nan smirked.

Alec nudged her hard in the ribs and gave her a warning look. David nodded at me reassuringly.

“How did you two meet?” Alec asked helpfully.

“Well that’s a bit complicated.” David looked at me significantly.

“I am a student at college. David offered to help me, it sort started from there.” I said trying to sound matter-of-fact.

“Offered you a bit of a guiding hand did he?” Nan’s mouth twitched a little at the corners. “You seem a little flushed?”

“What do you study?” Alec asked ignoring his wife.

“History.” I looked up to meet Nan’s eyes for the first time. She had kind eyes and gave me a friendly wink. “I specialise in medieval history at the moment, but I hope to study comparative and modern history later on.”

“I am hopeless at anything like that.” Nan rolled her eyes up. “You must be so clever. I am just a secretary you see.”

“How did you all meet?” I asked feeling a little more at ease.

“David and I were at college together. He chose teaching and I ended up in the civil service before going in to business. Nan used to work for me.” Alec supplied.

“Does anyone need a drink?” David asked.

“Not for me I am driving.” Alec replied.

“Oh I’ll have.” Nan began.

“Orange juice.” Alec finished for her.

Nan didn’t say anything but just pouted.

Alec followed David as he went to fix the drinks leaving me with Nan.

“I would have preferred a G&T but I got a bit squiffy over Christmas.” Nan shrugged. “Not allowed to drink until New Year.”

“Not allowed?” I was intrigued.

“You know how it is. You are not the only one on a short leash.” Nan whispered conspiratorially.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I spluttered.

“Oh come on I know corner time when I see it.” Nan laughed. “Its where I would be if I had a gin.”

“You mean Alec spanks you as well?” I gaped. “As well as give you corner time, I mean?”

“As well as you, you mean.” Nan giggled. “Come on, your bottom was redder than two holly berries when I came in.”

I blushed until my ears burned.

“I’m glad David has finally found someone.”

David and Alec returned with the drinks and after 10 minutes we were all talking like old friends. Alec invited us to a New Year’s drinks party and David accepted without reference to me.

After they left, David had stern words for me about my earlier outburst and I admitted that I was still a bit self-conscious about our age difference.

“You don’t want your friends to see what an old cronk you’ve got saddled with.” David teased.

“I am afraid that they will see how much under your thumb I am. Nan would have realised without seeing me in the corner. She is nice by the way.” I didn’t know whether to say any more.

“You really don’t need to worry about Nan and Alec knowing.” David urged.

“I know. So do you don’t you?” I smirked. “About Alec spanking Nan I mean?”

“She told you?” David seemed surprised.

“Yes. She explained about the drink ban.”

“She threw a blue fit when I found out. She is very shy about it, like you. It is not common knowledge they are both very private people.”

“How long have they been together?”

“About five years. Nan must have been your age when the got together. So you see they do understand. She was the original spanked secretary.”

“How long have you known about Alec?”

“We double dated at college. I heard a commotion in his room and found him with a girl over his lap. The girl I was with said she would have some of that if I were man enough. We sort of compared notes after that.”

“I suppose I should get back to the corner.” I groaned.

“Its late, lets postpone until after the New Year.”

“Why so long? Not that I am complaining.”

“Let us just put it down to gentlemanly concern, at least that way if you are worried about everyone knowing it will give your bottom a chance to recover so that it won’t be obvious that you can’t sit. Then I can give you a real workout to start the year.” He said the last part in a jocular way but with an edge to his voice.

“Thanks. I think.” I replied ruefully.

Alec and Nan had a big house in Richmond. A bit up from the river where we sometimes walked, but then as well off as they obviously were, riverside houses usually cost several million.

“This has got to be two million quids worth at least.” David was impressed. “How did you get settled in so fast?”

“We got an agent to deal with it while we were still in the States.” Alec explained. “There are several rooms left to be decorated, but I’ll leave all that to Nan.”

Nan slide up beside me and took my coat.

“Let’s leave the boys to talk property prices while I get you a drink.” She said. “It looked like you and David had some unfinished business the other night, how is your tail end tonight?”

I blushed, but my harsh ‘put down’ glare did not come off and I felt like a little girl lost.

“Fine thank you. How is yours?” Was all I could manage.

“Tender if the truth be told.” She said surreptitiously rubbing her bottom. “Someone thought I was a bit too bitchy the other night at your place.”

“Our confrontation was postponed.” I grimaced chewing my lip.

“What were you in for? It looked like brush work when I barged in.” Nan whispered looking around for eavesdroppers.

“More of the same.” It was very strange talking about this with a virtual stranger.

“Alec’s favourite. He hardly uses anything else.”

“I get the cane.” I blushed. I felt slightly aroused by the confession.

“Of course you would.” Nan grinned.

“What do you mean?”

“The teacher thing.” Nan added hastily.

“Oh yes. It was a bit like that. He was my head of year at school.” I admitted.

“Oh my god.” Nan clapped her hand to her mouth and I suddenly regretted my indiscretion. “That’s one up on the naughty secretary. How marvellous.”

“It wasn’t like that. I was a bad girl and he straightened me out. The rest came later. Much later when I was at college.” I babbled.

“Shush. I know. David has integrity. You must tell me all about it.” She looked around again, there was someone else at the door. “But some other time and I’ll tell you my story.”

We talked again later but by then Nan was a bit tipsy and Alec was obviously cross with her.

“Whoops. Daddy spank.” She slurred into my ear.

The New Year was received with much hullabaloo and kissing and then David said it was time to go.

“You and Nan seemed to get on very well.” He said later as we drove home.

“Yes.” I agreed. “I may have been a bit indiscrete, we talked about things.”

“I see.” David tried to sound severe but he had a faint smile on his lips. “I expect Nan started it.”

“Yes in a way.”

“I got the impression she was in trouble when we left.”

“She’s not the only one is she?” I replied meekly.

“Tomorrow we will settle things.” David said with finality.

To be continued.


Angela’s story continues

When I awoke the next morning my hands flew to my bottom, this was definitely not funny. I took pigeon steps to the bathroom as David looked on with something like concern on his face. He confided to me much later that he regretted sentencing me to such harsh spankings on successive days, but realised he couldn’t back down. Of course he was right but that was no comfort to me at the time.

As usual the stiffness wore off as the day went on and after our disastrous evening meal the night before we decided to go out for lunch.

“Should I write my culinary failure down in the book?” I asked, pulling a face.

“What do you think?” David offered me a paternal smile. “That is a genuine question and not rhetorical.”

“I suppose I should.” I replied reluctantly.

“It is up to you, there is not always a right answer, that is the whole point.” David explained.

“If I write it down you’re not going to spank me again too soon are you?” I wailed.

“Now you know that is not how it works. There are no deals.” David scolded.

I thought about it for a while and then while he went to the gents I wrote down: ‘reckless cooking experiment’ and ‘trying to bargain my way out of just punishment’. I put the book away with a sense of satisfied resignation.

Our pub lunch was as good as usual and I was becoming an expert at finding the areas of the pub where I could stand to eat without drawing attention while David sat next to me on a barstool.

We went for a walk along the river after lunch so it was dark by the time we got home and my thoughts turned to my evening stint in the corner.

“I wonder how the Hammers got on?” David said turning on the football results.

“West Ham.” I parodied in my best old man cockney accent whilst waving an imaginary scarf over my head.

“Do you want to start corner time now?” David warned.

The Hammers had won two goals to one so David was in a good mood and offered to cook dinner as usual, although that may have been self-preservation on his part.

“Will you teach me to cook?” I asked sheepishly remembering the previous night.

“Sure. There is nothing to it. The secret to cooking is ingredients.” He spoke enthusiastically.

“I thought it was timing?” I teased.

He turned to look at me with eyebrows raised in warning. I returned a coy smile.

“Ingredients and timing.” He amended. “And a good stove helps.”

Later David talked me through the chicken casserole he made, using phrases like ‘reducing the stock’ and ‘braising’. I had no idea what he was saying but it tasted great.

“What do you want to do for New Year?” David asked over dinner.

“Can’t we stay in alone?” I pleaded.

“Don’t be an old stick in the mud.” He laughed. “I’ll call some friends. What about you? Someone must be having a party.”

“Your friends and my friends?” I gaped.

“Why what’s the matter?” He asked.

“But would that work?” I suddenly felt a rising panic like I was about to sit an exam.

“Calm down.” David said soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I just.” I began to gabble.

“Angela.” David scowled. “You are being silly.”

I burst into tears and ran from the table leaving David sitting mystified by my behaviour. He didn’t follow me and when I returned to take my place in the corner naked from the waist down, he made no comment.

I had stood there for a while and for once it seemed like the best place to be given my outburst and David still hadn’t spoken or made any sign that he knew I was there. Then I heard the ominous sound of something being put down on the table. I knew it was the dreaded bath brush. Despite my aching behind and the very real fear in my stomach, I felt a strange excitement. If only. I didn’t finish the thought. I just dissolved into an ill-defined longing.

Time passed and I must have completely zoned out, because the next thing I knew there was a knock at the door. I started and suddenly became alert to every sound. I desperately wanted to look round but my discipline held and my nose stayed firmly in the corner.

There were voices in the hall, David’s and a strange male voice.

“Its great to see you both.” I could tell David’s usual poise was under challenge for once. “Can you wait here a moment I just need to do something.”

“Sorry darling I am desperate for the loo.” I heard a woman’s voice.

“Nan just a minute.” David called from somewhere behind me.

The door opened and I knew that someone was standing behind me, the hurried breathing of the unwelcome guest stopped mid breath.

“Oh my god.” The woman gasped. “Sorry love, but where is the toilet?”

I dare not speak. I couldn’t come to that. My face blazed hotly right to my ears. The wall remained solid against my flight and the ground refused to open. Did you know that you cannot actually die of embarrassment? Something I learnt in that instant.

I heard the woman flee in haste behind me and after a cupboard was opened a closed somewhere I finally heard her find the toilet. I stood transfixed. Had David let her come in to humiliate me? Should I run to our room?

“Get dressed.” David hissed somewhere behind me.

I ran for the bedroom. I would get dressed but it didn’t matter because I was not coming out until they had gone. I hastily pulled on my jeans and then went to listen at the door.

“Alec its so great to see you and Nannette, how long have you been back?” I heard David say.

Alec and Nannette could go and. I fumed.

“We’ve been back for about three weeks now. We stayed with Nan’s parents for Christmas. Who was that I heard running for cover as we came in?” This Alec asked.

“He’s got a new girl.” Nan’s voice joined the conversation. “Very striking form behind.”

“Ah you saw?” David replied.

“Oh yes.” Nan giggled. “Has someone been a naughty girl?”

“Oh shit, sorry Dave.” Alec moaned. Then added in a growl. “Nan he told you to wait.”

“I was desperate.” Nan protested. “Where is this girl? Can we meet her? Properly I mean.”

“Angela come out, its some old friends of mine.” David called.

“Don’t embarrass the kid.” Alec remonstrated.

Kid. I could have spat in indignation. But I realised I was behaving like one. I wished I wasn’t blushing so much but I steeled myself to face the music.

To be continued.


A Voice in the Corner has been nominated as best spanking blog of the year. It is a great honour, especially for a blog that has only been running for four months. If you want to vote for it or just want to check out the other great blogs that have been nominated then vistit the Spanking Spot.

Many thanks to whoever nominated and for everyone’s support of this project so far.


Angela’s story continues.

The next morning I had a little of the customary stiffness and sitting was not at the top of my list of fun things to do. But otherwise, I felt fine. The prospect of another spanking that evening filled me with curiosity rather than anxiety, I had never experienced such a large heavy brush as the one David intended to use. However, after the previous night in the corner I was not looking forward to that part of the proceedings.

David had some work to do and as I could not face sitting at a desk to do my holiday studies I decided to go for a walk.

Walking on your own in a London street or park frees the mind to ponder the great questions of the universe and your own personal set of ethics. I got to wondering what would happen if I misbehaved while I was out. Should I write it down in my new book and face the just consequences or should I keep quiet because my bottom had all too recently been spanked? I realised that I would have to write any failing down because David would see in my face at once that I had cheated.

It is strange, but rather than be dismayed at the new discipline he had placed on me, I felt comforted by the knowledge that I could not escape David’s protection and firm hand. It sounds corny if you say it out loud but I did feel a warm glow that actually manifested itself in a pleasant tickling sensation on my skin.

The other thing that occurred to me was that apart from a bit of housework, I let David do everything. One of the reasons I was being spanked was because I had not offered to help my mother at Christmas. I realised that I had to learn my lesson and take some responsibility for our relationship.

I concluded that I would prepare the evening meal. A reckless decision, one might think, as I had no idea how to cook, but then how hard could it be?

I had great fun planning my first foray into the culinary world. After extensive thinking over several minutes, I hit upon beef, as we had probably eaten enough birds in the last week or so, that we would probably grow wings.

The more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea, but what kind of beef, a casserole or a joint? What vegetables should I get? It took most of the afternoon and several miles of walking before I ended up with two steaks.

“Guess what?” I announced when I arrived home. “I am going to cook tonight.”

“Are you trying to soften me up?” David asked.

“Oh you cynic. No I am just trying to prove I have learned my lesson.” I said smugly.

“For a girl who is going to get another sound spanking on her already tender tail later, you sound very chipper.” He observed dryly.

“No need to rub it in.” I pouted. “Not until after anyway.”

As David returned to his work, I set about setting things up in the kitchen.

“Are you sure you can cook steak?” David called from the other room.

“Of course.” I replied. “How do you like yours done, boiled or baked?”

David came rushing into the kitchen, almost at a run. I was ready for him frying pan in hand and a smirk on my face.

“Very funny.” He pulled a face. “You could always have that spanking now.”

“How do you like your steak?” I asked seriously.

“I’ll settle for cooked, if it is even slightly pink I will be happy, but if you can leave a hint of blood, that would be fab.” He put is arms around me and kissed my hair.

“Fab.” I jeered. “What kind of old git’s expression is that?”

He smacked my bottom hard and I yelped and stuck out my tongue at him.

In the end I forgot the onions, under cooked the potatoes, over cooked the peas and the less said about the steaks could only improve the story. David tried not to laugh and just sat there wearing his interesting face. Then I did.

“Better than my first effort.” David said joining me.

“Sorry.” I grimaced. “The steaks caught fire while I was peeling the potatoes.”

David burst into huge guffaws, hardly able to speak.

“You are supposed to have the vegetables ready before you start cooking the steak.” He could not get the words out for laughing. “Timing is the secret to cooking.”

“That pan will take days to clean.” I wailed once we finally stopped laughing.

“Never mind you can make a start tonight before you go to the corner.”

“Yes Sir.” I said gloomily.

In the end it took two hours to do the washing up standing at the sink in just my pyjama tops with my still bruised bare bottom on display. By the time I was finished I would have happily traded my chore for the corner.

I didn’t bother to report my qualified success with the pan to David; I just went to the corner to await my spanking.

Spanking time did not come soon, but it came hard. I was ready to shout the place down before he was finished with me. The clothes brush hurt far worse than the hairbrush and I was suddenly very worried about my next appointment with the bath brush.

To be continued.


Angela’s story continues.

All the next day I pondered the justice of David’s sentence and our life together. Why had I been so stubborn? Where did my little rebellion come from? Was I being bad for badness sake or had Christmas been such a good time that I needed to sabotage it.

“A penny for them. Are you worried about tonight?” David asked me.

“Yes. No, not really. I was thinking about yesterday.” I replied.

“You think I was too harsh?” There was no warning in his voice, he wasn’t about to get cross if he thought I was whining, so I guessed it was safe for my bottom to talk.

“Not exactly. Why did we have that silly argument?”

“I was tired and a little stubborn myself and you were courting a spanking.” He suggested.

“We were both tired I suppose and anyway I like you stubborn. You think I wanted a spanking?” I was not convinced.

“Wanted is perhaps the wrong word. Subconsciously at least you needed one, a side effect of being at your parents perhaps.” He amended.

I thought about this. He was only partly right. I already had a spanking coming and I knew that part of me welcomed it. So why did I press him? I was testing him I realised. Does he really love me? If he does, he will punish me. That was what I was thinking. Or rather wasn’t thinking. Why doesn’t my subconscious give my bottom a break once in a while?

We didn’t talk much at dinner. I could hardly eat, the butterflies in my stomach were having a party. At last I said:

“Where do you want me?”

“You haven’t finished eating.” David scolded.

I shook my head and hoped he wouldn’t insist.

“Alright, I think we will have you in the vacant corner of the lounge where I can watch you as well as TV. Upstairs and get ready for bed, pyjama tops only I think.” He ordered.

When I returned he was still finishing his coffee surrounded by dirty plates. I stood nervously with my hands shielding my naked sex wondering what to do next.

“Do you want me to clear up before I?” I just nodded towards the room not able to say the words.

“Are you stalling?” he smiled.

I realised I might be and rubbed my shoulder with my chin and kicked my feet. He nodded towards the lounge and I reluctantly went with leaden steps before my subconscious got me into any more hot water.

I hated corner time before a spanking. Afterwards it wasn’t so bad because by then I was almost eager for the haven of a nice cool wall. Post-spanking corner time meant it was all over and my bottom was safe again and I felt all clean and forgiven.

But waiting for a spanking in the corner was hell on the nerves, not to mention the legs and nose. I wondered if I would eventually get calluses on my nose from where it touched the wall? Since I didn’t have any on my bottom, which got a much rougher ride, then I guessed my nose was probably safe.

The other horrible thing about this corner time was that I knew I was not going anywhere else for a while. It was not yet nine and I had promised that I would stay here until bedtime. Maybe David would be ready for bed by 10.30 since he still had to spank me, but that was the very earliest. If there was a good film on at 10.30 then I could expect to be here until at least midnight.

At nine, David sat down and turned on the TV. I had already felt that I had stood here for an age and his arrival in the room brought home to me how long I was destined to be here.

There was a programme about Super Tsunamis on the box. I missed out on the spectacular graphics of course but I learnt a lot from just listening. Apparently, there is a giant cliff face somewhere that will fall into the sea sometime and cause a wave so big it will wipe out New York like in that movie that I can’t remember the name of. Maybe I wasn’t listening so well after all.

David made a move and I jumped. Not literally, that was a spanking offence. It was time. No David was just pouring himself a whisky. I wished he hadn’t, I realised that I had zoned out a little and now I was conscious of being in the corner again.

Sir Trevor McDonald announced the ITN 10 o’clock news coming on and David turned over to the BBC news. Moira Stuart began to drone on about how the Conservative Party didn’t like what the Labour Government was doing about Europe. How is that news? And anyway why was it Sir Trevor and not Dame Moira? And how come all the news anchors were black? Was that right, who was on Channel Four? Krishnan Guru-Murthy, he was Asian, but no he wasn’t the number one it was John Snow.

It is amazing how your mind wonders and what sort of crap occurs to you when you are standing in the corner.

The news over the TV was suddenly and ominously turned off. Surely there is a late film I prayed.

“Alright it is time.” David said sternly. “Bathroom and toilet if you need to and then into the bedroom corner until I come up.”

When I got to the bedroom, the brushes were already laid out on the bed. I swallowed hard, tonight it was to be the hairbrush, but in two nights the bath brush I realised. I scampered to the corner suddenly very intimidated.

All too soon David entered the room.

“I hope you have been good today. Nothing added to your book?”

“No Sir.” I had forgotten and hoped that was the right answer.

“Alright come here.”

I turned my hands flying to cover my front. I was always shy at times like this. David already held the brush. I walked towards him my eyes cast down, more with nerves than shame.

I was upended over his knee and held firmly, my hands were pinned into the small of my back.

“Anything to say before I pass sentence?” He intoned.

Get on with I nearly snapped, nearly, I was learning.

He did. The spanking was fast and forceful and I was soon breathing hard and blinking back tears. Why did it sting so? Unlike corner time, a spanking does not lend itself to introspection so all questions where quickly driven from my mind. The whole world shrank to the brush and my bottom.

I started to protest with incoherent phrases and then came the first sob.

David eased off the pace a little with the spanks, but they fell harder if anything. I yelled at one.

“Please David I’m sorry I said at last.” I hated begging, but I also loved it.

There was no respite, how could there be, my man was strict.

I don’t know how long the spanking lasted after that, all I know is that by the time he was done my bottom was both sore and aching. He held me as I cried and I reached back to let my fingers explore the damage. The flesh was strangely hard and very hot. I wanted desperately to rub the hurt away but I had not yet been given permission.

“Shush baby.” He soothed. “Its all over I love you.”

I just clung to him and sobbed myself clean.

To be continued.


Flappers

The racy 1920s behaviour in the bottom picture often led to the action taken in the top image

In the post (first world) war period women were freer than they ever had been before but not everyone approved of their ‘wild’ behaviour. These women became known as Flappers. Here is an encyclopaedia definition of a Flapper.

The term flapper in the 1920s referred to a ‘new breed’ of young women who wore short skirts, bobbed their hair, listened to jazz, and flaunted their disdain for what was then considered acceptable behaviour. Flappers were seen as brash for wearing excessive makeup, drinking, treating sex in a casual manner, smoking, driving automobiles and otherwise flouting social and sexual norms. Flappers had their origins in the period of liberalism, social and political turbulence and increased transatlantic cultural exchange that followed the end of the First World War, as well as the export of American jazz culture to Europe. The first appearance of the word and image in the United States came from the popular 1920 Frances Marion movie, The Flapper, starring Olive Thomas. Thomas had starred in a similar role in 1917, though it was not until The Flapper that the term was used. In her final movies she was seen in the flapper image. Other actresses, such as Clara Bow, Louise Brooks, Colleen Moore and Joan Crawford would soon build their careers on the same image, achieving great popularity.

In the United States, popular contempt for Prohibition was a factor in the rise of the flapper. With legal saloons and cabarets closed, back alley speakeasies became prolific and popular. This discrepancy between the law-abiding, religion-based temperance movement and the actual ubiquitous consumption of alcohol led to widespread disdain for authority. Flapper independence may also have its origins in the Gibson girls of the 1890s. Although that pre-war look does not resemble the flapper identity, their independence and feminism may have led to the flapper wisecracking tenacity 30 years later.

In a pre-feminist age, the feisty and rebellious Flapper was a direct challenge to old fashion values in North America and Western Europe. Articles in family magazines such as ‘Should Flappers be spanked’ were not at all unusual.

Flappers were even too rich for Al Capone, who said that any daughter of his who became a Flapper could expect “the strap on her bare bottom.”

This was the view expressed by many.

A 23-year-old Jane Harrington wrote to the New Yorker in 1928 complaining that it was fine for Joan Crawford to be an independent girl about town but she did not have a mother with a hairbrush waiting for her when she got home.

“It has gotten that I dare only venture out in the evening once or twice a week because on my return there is dear old Ma wielding her brush like the sword of justice, the target being my bare behind. I am writing this note now sitting gingerly on a cushion.” She adds. “Its not that I won’t stand up to Ma (pun intended?) but if she adds to my sitting woes while I still have bruises from the last spanking then it rather takes the fun of a night on the town.”

Forsaking all others

Joan Crawford is about to get her first spanking from Clark Gable, but her friend thinks that the wire brush is too harsh

Joan Crawford was not immune from a spanking herself. In her youth she specialised in rebellious Flapper types brought to heal by the loving hero. In ‘Forsaking All Others’ she gets not one, but two spankings from Clark Gable, one to bring her to her senses and the other at her own request to say sorry. The second is off screen.

In 1926, Mrs Graham, also of New York, expressed a strong opinion that any unmarried daughters had better behave as she too had a hairbrush for their bare bottoms.

“Only last week I caught my 26-year-old daughter coming home with the milk. She had on skirts that were far too short for her and she knew it. I had spanked her sister only the week before for wearing similar attire. She will not forget the spanking she got in a hurry and when I spank I spank hard. If she eats off the mantle every day until she marries then so be it.”

It wasn’t only unmarried daughters on the receiving end. In 1924 Jack Seagrove of Maine found himself the subject of a news report after he spanked his wife for ‘acting like a flapper.’ It seems he did not like her style of dress and spanked her on her own front porch and the neighbours called the police. No charges were brought and the local police chief said, “If all men of the county made such a stand then there would be less law breakers.”

It wasn’t only in a America that Flappers provoked such a response.

In Manchester, England, in 1929 Mr Charles B wrote to his local newspaper to denounce the “latest American fashion for scandalous clothes and behaviour.”

“I have spanked and strapped all three of my daughters for acting loosely before now. Only last week all three of them went over the kitchen table one by one until they much regretted to defy me. If they have no care for modesty before others then they can take it on the bare until they mind their manners.”

Another report in 1927 was that traditional families in Berlin were resorting to old-fashioned methods to prevent their daughters associating with degenerates in the cities nightclubs.

One woman said that she had to drag her daughter Helga from such a club and when she got her home she stripped her and held her down for a whipping with the implement that her mother had used on her while growing up.

A translation has her saying: “I never thought that I would do it because I hated it when Ma-ma beat me so when I was a young woman. But my Helga has been seen with She-men and other homosexuals drinking and she does not deny it. She says that I am old fashioned. Well I am quite determined to show her how old-fashioned by whipping her bare backside every day until she sees she is wrong.”

One wonders if she was that decadent then perhaps she enjoyed it.


Angela’s story continues:

“How did you get on?” David asked an hour after we got home.

I looked at him puzzled and then shrugged.

“You mean Christmas? It was great, I think Mum and Dad really like you.” I replied.

“Yes it was, but you know that wasn’t what I meant.” David said impatiently.

“I really don’t know what you are asking.” I said letting the irritation creep into my voice.

“There is no need to take that tone with me.” David was cross.

“What is your problem?” I yelled. “You ask stupid bloody cryptic questions and then get angry when I won’t play.”

“I am not playing and stop yelling.” David snapped.

“I’ll bloody well yell if I want to.” I screamed. Whoops.

“That does it.” David said quietly. “Go and stand in the corner.”

“I won’t.” I replied incredulously. “I haven’t done anything.”

David raised his eyebrows and gave me that look.

“Well I yelled, sorry.” I said not sounding sorry at all. “But you started it.”

I was upended across his knee in a trice and after a quick volley of swats, I was bared for a sustained spanking.

“This is what you want isn’t it? You have gone too long without.” David said firmly.

“David please I am sorry.” I whined.

It was too late and I was soundly hand spanked on my bare bottom. I could hear my breathing getting increasingly laboured as I tried to hold back the tears. The worst thing was that I knew that I would get worse later.

I didn’t bother to plead I just began to cry.

“Are you ready to go to the corner now?” David asked calmly.

“Yes Sir.” I sobbed.

“While you are there you can think about the answer to my quite civil question.” David ordered.

I stood sniffing with my jeans and knickers around my ankles and my tears running down my cheeks to meet them. My stinging red bottom, so nearly recovered from the last weeks caning, felt hot and heavy and I still didn’t know what the question was.

David was in no hurry; I just stood for an age angry at the world determined that I had been unjustly treated and I did not know why. Although at the back of mind, I thought it might have something to do with the book he gave me. But I was too busy sulking to listen to that thought.

“Well?” David asked a long while after. “How did you get on?”

“I had a lovely Christmas, then I came home and I got a spanking for no reason.” I replied sulkily.

David didn’t say anything he just walked away.

I must have stood there for another half an hour, because my legs had begun to ache, before he came back.

“Well?” He said.

“Dunno.” I pouted like a kid.

“Alright.” David sighed. “I’ll be back in a while.”

My legs and bottom were beginning to get a bit cold as I stood in the corner. I must have been there for a while because there was no more tingling in my behind, just a pervasive soreness. I knew David wanted me to show him the book to see what I had written in it. If I gave in now I would be punished for being stubborn because he would say that I knew all along. But what if I didn’t? I knew I wouldn’t win.

I heard David coming back and my heart leapt in fear and relief, I would give in. But he only went into the toilet and when he came out, he went back to watching television.

I started to cry. All right, I thought if he won’t listen to me then he can wait all night for an answer. I think I stamped my foot.

I was there quite a while longer, because I had run out of tears and the ones I had shed had dried on my face leaving it feeling tight and itchy.

Finally David came back and stood behind me for a while waiting.

“May I speak?” I said in a small voice.

“Only if it is to answer my question.” David answered.

“Do you mean about my book?” I swallowed.

“You I know I did, see you knew all the time.” His voice had a hard edge to it.

“I wrote down three things.” My voice was a whisper and even I could hear the pout in it. “Can I show you?”

“And how many things would you have to write about tonight’s little exhibition?”

“Shouting, not answering the question, swearing, not going to the corner.” I listed.

“Being stubborn and being a brat.” He added.

“Sorwee.” I said in a baby voice.

“Ok go and get you book and show me.” He sighed.

I ran from the corner to fetch it. As I handed it to him I realised I was in deep trouble. I was already due a punishment for the crimes in the book and my naughtiness since we got back was probably worse behaviour.

David flicked over the pages.

“Not enough detail and I don’t want to see prevarication and excuses in here. What’s this? ‘I might have had too much to drink,’ is that all you can say?” He shook his head. “‘Maybe I should be more careful about what I say when I am talking to people’.”

“David it’s hard, it’s embarrassing.” I whined.

“Let me see, rudeness, indiscretion and drinking too much. I would have let drinking too much go, as it was Christmas, but that’s why you had to choose your own sins, so it counts now, but what about laziness? You did not offer to help your mum once. Even I helped.”

I realised he was right and blushed in genuine shame.

“After your behaviour tonight, I make that 10 sins to atone for all together. Under the circumstances, we had better assume the spanking and corner time this evening account for you being a stubborn brat. That leaves eight, fair enough?”

“Yes Sir.” I said meekly.

“Starting tomorrow, you will spend all evening between dinner and bed time in the corner. After which you will get progressively harder spankings with your new brushes. Then at the weekend, you’ll get a good strapping followed by the cane. Fair?”

“Yes Sir.”

To be continued.


Angela’s story continues.

My other concerns soon evaporated as I was given my first gift, a box of chocolates from an aunt. And an orgy of parcel opening and mutual kissing and hugging ensued.

David had brought my father a bottle of scotch, on my suggestion and my mother a book on flower arranging, both gifts served to boost his standing with my parents.

David’s first gift to me was a collection of books, two I needed for my course and a third, the Bluffers Guide to Exams, a sort of joke. The second gift turned into a personal challenge to me to suppress my blushes.

Ordinarily it would have passed unnoticed but given my conversation with mum the night before, it definitely had embarrassment potential. At first it looked harmless enough, a fancy royal blue box with gold edging, but inside was a collection of brushes. A hairbrush, a larger clothes brush and a long-handled bath brush.

I think the import was lost on Dad, but Mum sucked in her cheeks and visibly suppressed a smirk. I kept my gaze firmly on the gift as I thanked David and did not look anyone in the eye. It was definitely more imaginative than the Marx and Spencer’s pullover that I gave him.

After the gift giving was over, I hastily put my little collection, including the brushes in my room so as to be out of sight and mind.

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with nibbles and charades. Although Dad soon fell asleep in his chair and took no further part after acting out ‘One flew over the cuckoo’s nest.’

No one felt all that much like eating that evening and we settled down to watch the Christmas film on the television.

That night in bed, I remembered to whisper so we weren’t overheard.

“I could have died when I opened that gift.” I hissed.

“Why it was only some common or garden household items?” David said with a smile playing about his lips.

“Can I quote you on that when the time comes?” I threw a pillow at him.

“When what time comes?” He replied innocently.

I pouted as he drew me to him.

“That bath brush looks mean.” I sulked. “You wouldn’t use it?”

“When I have a bath you mean?” He smiled.

“Meanie.”

“I thought we might need a suitable implement in every room.” He kissed me. “Just in case you are naughty. We could practice tonight if you like?”

I knew he wouldn’t with my parents next door. But I was not so sure. I wonder what they would say if he spanked me with a brush on Christmas night.

“You wouldn’t dare.” I was gambling that it was the only time in my life that I might get away with the challenge. The look on his face sent chills down my spine.

“Only kidding.” I added hastily.

“I don’t know, we really should have a birthday spanking.” He said opening the box with the brushes in.

“Its not my birthday.” I swallowed hard.

“No but it is Jesus’ birthday.” He grinned. “Do you think you could handle around 2,000 swats?”

I got ready to make a bolt for the bathroom to lock myself in.

“I’ll tell you what, I have another gift for you.” He said carefully. “If you accept this gift and use it as it is intended to be used, I will forgo christening one of the brushes tonight.”

I knew it was a trap but I cannot resist a gift. Besides anything that deferred his threat with my parents within earshot was probably a good trade.

“Alright.” I said uneasily.

He handed me a small wrapped parcel. I tore the paper off, it was just the right size for jewellery. It turned out to be a book with its own little pen inserted in the spine. I looked at him my face a question. the book was blank.

“What do I have to do with it?” I was very much afraid of the answer.

“You don’t get it?” He asked. “When we are in situations like this and I can’t spank you, then you can write down all your wrong doings so that we can settle accounts later.”

My jaw dropped, but I felt a tingle in my stomach.

“You can start by writing down all of your short comings this holiday so far. If you miss one that failure will be added to the list.” He said seriously.

“What have I done?” I wailed. My mind was racing with a dozen things he may have taken issue with.

“I suggest you remember before we leave.”

All the next day I pondered my new gift and what I should write in it. I had suggested that David just tell me, but he said it was important that I come to my own conclusions.

We went for a walk before our duck lunch and mother asked if I was all right, as I seemed preoccupied. Of course, I said I was, but then I asked her.

“I haven’t been out of line this Christmas have I?”

“No, everything is fine.” Mum said reassuringly. “Have you and David argued?”

“No, it’s just, oh never mind.” I said.

I remembered the threat David made after my outburst the day before and my indiscreet conversation with Mum. I supposed I should put those both in the book. I just wished I could think of at least one more as I knew David would.

Our lunch was as happy as the previous days meal and there were more crackers and mottos. It crossed my mind that I got a disapproving look from David as I helped myself to a third glass of wine. I realised that I had been drinking a lot and resolved to add that to the list.

That was three different shortcomings. It was going to cost my bottom later that week but there could not have been anymore I had forgotten. I was relieved and hoped David would be satisfied.

After lunch mum began to clear away, I went into the front room to see what was on television.

“Turn that off.” Dad said. “We can play Monopoly or something.”

David stopped outside to help mum until Dad went to call him in to the room.

Monopoly was fun, I got Mayfair early on and cleaned up. Then while Mum and Dad were out the room David whispered:

“We should play this for spanks one day.”

I was still red faced when my parents returned.

“So you are going tomorrow?” Dad asked.

“I think we had better, things to do.” David replied.

“It has been nice having you.” Mum added.

I certainly had to agree that it had been the best Christmas ever.

To be continued.


Angela’s story continues.

Nothing was said the next morning and I earnestly hoped that my parents had not heard me tell David of my conversation with my mother.

Everyone was up early of course, for a traditional Christmas breakfast, but I was too excited to eat. The presents were not to be opened until the afternoon.

“Oh can’t I please open just one?” I begged David.

My parents exchanged smiles, I did this every year but now I was openly deferring to David and not mum and dad.

“Stop being a big kid.” He grinned.

I pouted and folded my arms in a mock sulk.

“Are you gentleman going to the pub before lunch?” Mother enquired.

“Well I don’t know is that what you usually do?” David asked.

“I do if I have a chance, it’s a long day to be cooped up inside.” Dad said.

“Can I come?” I said eagerly.

“I would quite like a chat with David, man to man.” Dad said ominously. “Oh nothing heavy, just a get to know you chat.”

“Sure good idea.” David agreed.

“Oh its not fair.” I whined deciding that I might manage some toast after all.

As I stood to reach across the table for a piece David gave me a whack on the bottom and told me to behave. I yelped far more than I should have, my caning still very much imprinted on my backside. Mum and Dad exchanged significant looks but did not comment.

Breakfast proceeded much as normal after that. There was some talk of the merits of goose over turkey; David and my father both agreed they preferred chicken or duck to either.

“Oh thanks very much, I spent hours on chestnut stuffing for that bird.” Mum pretended to be put out. Then added with a smile. “We have a duck for boxing day.”

“How wonderfully extravagant.” David rubbed his hands together with glee.

“What are we going to do with all that goose?” Dad asked slapping his forehead in mock exasperation.

The pubs only being open for a short while for the dedicated boozers on Christmas Day, David and Dad slipped out just before noon leaving me with Mum and a glass of sherry.

“I don’t suppose I could have a gin and tonic?” I asked grimacing at the sickly sweet sherry.

“Quite the hardened drinker now aren’t we?” Mum scolded. Then said. “Go on then I think I’ll join you.”

As I made the drinks, I caught mum looking at me quizzically.

“David caned you at school didn’t he?” Mum said suddenly out of the blue. “Its alright your Dad told me.”

I blushed furiously.

“I always deserved it.” I snapped defensively.

“More than once! I didn’t know that.” Mum smirked. “Don’t get me wrong he worked wonders with you. When you made such a bog up of all your exams the first time around I despaired that you would ever get to college.”

When I handed her the drink my face was scarlet.

“You said he has been coaching you with your college work. That is good.” Mum said tentatively. “When exactly did you get your last caning?”

“Mum!” I gaped in utter embarrassment. “Please that is none of your business.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you have been sitting gingerly since you arrived.” She persisted.

I scowled at the floor as if it had betrayed me by not opening up and swallowing me whole.

“Its all right.” She soothed. “I am only glad that your father only used his slipper when we first married.”

Too much information, I thought, I could not believe she had just told me that.

“I felt the hairbrush once or twice.” She added looking at me intently.

I could not meet her eyes.

“Me too.” I blushed. “The cane is much worse.”

“I don’t want to pry, I really don’t, its just that your dad is much more reticent about your relationship than he lets on. I wanted to hear it from the horses mouth that you are happy and not.” She did not finish and looked like she was fishing for a word.

“Not in the hands of an evil Svengali?” I supplied.

“How poetically put.” Mother smiled and gave me a look that I had only seen her use with adults before.

“David doesn’t do anything to me I don’t want him to. Well he does, but you know what I mean.” I blushed again.

“Yes all too well.” Mother agreed ruefully.

“Does Daddy still, you know?” I asked innocently.

“Now that really is none of your business.” It was Mother’s turn to blush.

I laughed and went to prepare two more G&Ts. Then I looked up sheepishly as I was making them and said shyly:

“A few days ago.”

Mother shook her head and looked puzzled. Then she sucked in her lower lip as the penny dropped.

“Oh. Poor you.”

When Dad and David returned from the pub they were both in a good mood and seemed to be the best of friends.

“I haven’t had a drink for at least 10 minutes it must be time for another.” Dad said loudly rubbing his hands together.

“Don’t you think you have had enough?” Mum said as all eyes turned to her third gin still in her hand.

“Everything all right?” I whispered to David as I took him aside.

“Fine.” David shrugged. “Why what is wrong?”

I shook my head dismissively and turned to pour too large glasses of whisky.

“We had a good long chat about you my girl.” Dad was in a boisterous mood. “Something about exam nerves.”

I blushed furiously and looked daggers at David.

“Don’t take on so. It has always been your weak point I just asked David how you were coping at college.” Dad said cheerfully. “David said he has a solution.”

“White or red?” Mum said.

I started and blushed further.

“White or red what?” I gasped. They could not be talking about my bottom.

All eyes turned to me and the conversation stopped dead at my outburst.

“Wine dear.” Mother smirked. “Lunch will be ready in a minute. What did you think I was talking about?”

David gave me a warning look and only Dad looked at all bemused, as if he were the only one not to pick up on the subtext.

Lunch went well and every motto provoked a funny story from Dad about something. Even David told a few jokes. Mum was just pleased that her cooking was so appreciated. Then after a second bottle of wine, we got onto Christmas pudding.

“So what is your solution to Angela’s block with exams?” Dad asked slurring a little.

“You know, just a little carrot and stick.” David said dismissively.

I was suddenly very conscious of where my bottom was touching the chair. Mother was trying to suppress a grin and I was desperately regretting our earlier exchange of confidences.

“Mostly stick I hear.” Mum said under her breath.

“Oh that’s right you and my girl here have a history with the stick.” Dad winked at me.

I blushed furiously and David coughed politely.

“Not still taking a swishing are you?” Dad joked.

I must have blushed every shade of red and kept my eyes glued to my plate. Dad exchanged looks with Mum and suddenly sensed he had gone too far. Perhaps he thought I didn’t like to be reminded of my school days, or had he guessed?

“More wine mother.” He said banging the table in an exaggerated drunk manner to change the subject.

A little later as we sat alone waiting to open our presents while Mum and Dad were off organising yet more drinks I took a moment to confront David.

“What did you tell him at the pub?” I whispered fiercely.

“Nothing much.” David said calmly. “What did you say to your mum? You certainly all but gave the game away at lunch.”

“Sorry.” I blushed. I knew he was right.

“You wait until I get you home.” David hissed as my parents returned.

I didn’t have time to dwell on David’s threat as the presents were handed out. I resolved to stick to lemonade for the rest of the afternoon.

To be continued.


To tie up two loose ends from recent comments here are a couple of things found on the web. A few weeks back there was a comment questioning whether young women were ever really recipients of corporal punishment at school. Also, someone asked if there were going to be Christmas stories so there is a seasonal element that ties this together.

There has to be some doubt about the birching in Kent post, although there is some first hand evidence, but Karen K posted this in response.

“I wouldn’t be surprised at anything that went on in a private girls school. You would not believe some of the things that went on at mine. I just think it is all much more hidden.

“I was caned at school and my brother at his. There were girls at his school and they were hardly ever caned and if they were it was more lenient for them.

“But I think if there are no boys around the girls act up more and are more likely to get noticed.

“The girls at my school weren’t caned as much as the boys at my brothers – but they were caned quite a lot.

“There were also unofficial punishments from prefects and monitors. Some of them involved things that ‘weren’t allowed’ but were known about and hidden.

“Personally the one time I was caned (I got four) was not as bad as the slipper from a prefect. I think some girls may have got it bare (the slipper from a prefect I mean), but I don’t know, like I said it was all hidden. But you hear things.”

Carol Anne said this in a forum on a women’s sexual health website about an event that happened in the early 1980s.

“Girls were caned at my school, but not very often so I really did not expect to be caned during my first year of sixth form. But I was and this was to lead to my first ever orgasm.

“I was elected to the committee for organising the school disco so we had certain privileges. One day I was up in the music room familiarising myself with some the equipment. There was a big sign on the stereo system we were using that said ‘do not play volume above six.’ I thought it would be fun to test this at full volume, all the way up to 10. The music came out much louder than I had anticipated, these were very big speakers, before I could turn it down, there was a horrible pop and the smoking speakers became silent all by themselves.

“The music teacher burst into the room and I was sent to the deputy head. No apology was acceptable as I had been in open defiance of clearly displayed sign, which I admitted, and had abused my privileges.

“She gave me six of the best on my knickers. I was crying and pleading with her before she did it, she only offered to consult my parents, but I knew they would agree with her. I was so embarrassed as I bent over and the pain was incredible.

“Afterwards I rushed to the loo to look at the damage and got very aroused looking at my bare bottom with marks. I satisfied myself right there for the first time.”

Pixiebelle said in response to this.

“I got caned at school and had a similar experience afterwards. I tried and managed to get myself caned several times after that.”

And to close on a seasonal note another woman, Billy Do (that’s what it said) posted this on another forum about pranks under the subject ‘most embarrassing days’.

“When I was 17 we were let out of our school early just before Christmas as a treat, so me and two friends went into town and had a couple of lunchtime drinks a pub and then decided to visit Santa at the flea market.

“The sign said something like ‘all good children deserve something at Christmas’ so on a dare I asked the man dressed up as Father Christmas what the bad girls got. Will you spank us etc?

“He went along with it as there was no one about and three silly half drunk girls got a couple of play pats on our knickers over Santa’s knee.

“Unfortunately one of our teachers was passing and we got hauled back to school and our parents were called. My mother and one of the other girls’ mums came and we got such a telling off, I had never been so embarrassed. Then my mum said as I thought spanking was such fun I had better have the cane. The other mum agreed. You can imagine our response.

“The headmistress said it would have to be all three of us or nothing and to my surprise my friend who’s mother was not there said she wanted it all over with and agreed to be caned.

“We had to bend over one by one, mum even suggested as there were only women present it should be bare, but luckily the headmistress wouldn’t. It hurt though and we never lived it down as somehow word got out.”

Is truth stranger than fiction? As Angela’s story isn’t ready until tomorrow, maybe this is of interest in the meantime.