Congratulations Bonnie (for the 12 Million, not being Blog of the Week, which in no way compares) and here is to your first six years.

Apparently she is an actress, model and eh… wrestler!? Sometimes you have to wonder if you can be too English; what do they feed girls in the US of A?

There was no particular reason to run the picture until the second image turned up. Apparently Ms Keibler gets spanked – a lot.

In case you wanted a better idea of what this versatile 32-year-old looked like, a third picture has been provided.

No gentlemen callers after 7.30pm
No gentlemen visitors to be allowed in rooms at any time
No food to be eaten in your rooms
No alcohol at any time
No demonstrative or unseemly behavior
A strict curfew of 10.00pm is to be observed Sunday thru Thursday
A strict curfew or 10.30pm is to be observed on Friday and Saturday nights
Lights out by 11.30pm
Young ladies are to be correctly attired at all times (hats and gloves are to be worn before leaving)
All young ladies must attend church on Sunday’s
All young ladies must write home at least once a week

Such rules as these were typical of every boarding house in America or indeed much of the rest of the so-called ‘civilised’ world at the time.

What may have surprised them, however, was the fact these rules were printed on a Maplewood paddle and not the kind that you find in a canoe. It was a less than subtle clue to what the consequences of not following the rules might be.

Mrs Kitty Eldridge was not above applying three to six swat to the panties of ‘her girls’ when they misbehaved and that was just for openers.

“I was used to such ‘reprimands’ from my father, so a little panty-warming now and then was a fair price to pay for a little fun. However, what I did not figure on was Mrs Eldridge’s ire, after coming home late three nights in a row. On my third night on the tiles, that determined woman seized by the scruff and dragged me to her room whereupon she applied a not-so-little stinger to my hiney. After first taking the trouble to shuck it down bare. Yes my friends my very own landlady gave me a bare bottomed spanking right there in her parlour until I was beet-red and bawling like a kid. I doubt if one of my compatriots missed the hullabaloo for certainly the next morning and for many days after I was greeted with no few smirks from my fellows at breakfast or when I past them in the hall.”

“To make matters worse, Mrs Eldridge informed me that I had used up all my credit with her and she would deal with me in like manner from ‘here on in’ and for the very least slip. I would like to say that put paid to the matter once and for all, but I had sad occasion to revisit her parlour more times than I count ever after and never again was I gently handled.”

So wrote 20-year-old Miss Mary Jane Whitmore in her memoirs more than 30 years later.

Thanks to Dr Roman for that little snippet. Good to hear from you again David.

Now we have to say that these ridiculous stereotypes are much beloved of the British press and one might suspect that the headline Dragon Mothers was too good a phrase not to build a story around and the truth go hang.

However, the tradition of nude corner time (and even spanking) for young women may be prevalent among some Chinese families.

Whilst talking about the story above, one young woman said that a Chinese girlfriend of hers had to stand naked in the corner whenever she was grounded right up and beyond college.

With this in mind yours truly checked out the comments section on the various newspapers that reported the story in their online sections. All thought it wasn’t typical; many young women claiming Chinese descent had stories about variations of the nude corner time punishment. Some even said it was just, suggesting that if you embarrass your family then it was right that you should be embarrassed.

One young woman agreed, except that she said ‘why did she have to stand in the corner when her brothers didn’t;’ although that particular girl was ‘grateful that she was allowed to face the wall when her brothers and male cousins were around.’

Another woman said she lived with her parents until after she had completed a Master’s degree and an MBA, which they had paid for. During this time she accepted her parents’ punishments and that naked corner time was usually an alternative offered to a spanking.

“I usually took the spanking from my mother in the privacy of my room, which was administered with her hand or a slipper to my bare bottom. But sometimes I didn’t have a choice and nude corner time was added to my spanking in any case. Usually afterwards so my brother and sister could see my shame. Once when I got a C minus for math, I lied about it and hid my report card. I had a whole Saturday morning nude in the corner followed by a spanking and more corner time while still naked. That was hard as my aunt and cousin saw me also that day; a really difficult day for an 18-year-old. I never got another C again and I certainly never lied about my grades after that.”

Not many others were so graphic or forthcoming, but dozens of women indicated that they had had similar experiences.

It has to be said that most people, Chinese or otherwise were horrified, but interestingly enough the girls thus treated seemed to be largely supportive of their strict parents.

On the whole these anecdotes are no more extreme than some of those heard about young US women from certain backgrounds and equally impossible to verify.

Not sure when this happened, as until recently this London-based had twice as many Brits as any other single nationality. So a big hello to all you new readers and welcome.

There are also quite a few Australians, Indians and others as well, so hopefully you will stick around as well.

Our story started here.

Darius finished putting the last swats of Jen’s spanking across her bared bottom as his sensors suggested that an optimum punishment had been given. This despite calls from the informal audience who had gathered at the quay, who were demanding the spanking to continue. They were still laughing openly and mocking the bawling Jen. By then though Jen’s bottom was an even purple-red all over and the diligent MPSD adjudged that the spanking was over.

“Please Darius, please, let me go…” Jen wailed bitterly.

“The use of Phase is most unwise,” Darius said evenly. He lacked the correct tone for a true scolding, although his words accused her with the truth. Phase was so-called because the user tended to blank out for a few seconds as the drug took hold and again as it wore off. This gave the user the effect of being ‘teleported’ around. In between these episodes the user felt invincible with unlimited confidence. However, over time the length of the black-outs lengthened and the periods of euphoria shortened until they were supplanted altogether and the user was left in a permanent catatonic state.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Jen sobbed, “please Darius.”

Darius’s orders called for him to keep Jen bare-bottomed on the quay after the spanking was over. However, they had not specified how long for, so he was free to interpret. Releasing the girl, he watched as she made a dash for the open cargo bay doors. So eager was she to be free of her unwanted audience, she didn’t even wait to pull up her overalls, which flapped around her knees as she tugged at them at a run. It took her almost seven seconds to get on board. Seven seconds that satisfied Darius’s orders. Although he resolved that if she ever dabbled with dangerous drugs again he would make a less-favourable interpretation of his instructions.

“Poor Jen, I bet she won’t sit down this voyage,” someone called out to general laughter.

The freighter families were a rough lot, as were the docking crews. Such sights were not unheard of and though the shame of the incident would burn in Jen’s mind long after it faded from her bottom, by the time she returned from the next cargo run, the incident would be all but forgotten by those gathered.

Darius remembered such an incident that had involved Lidia many years before. None but he remembered it now. None but Lidia, he suspected; one more reason for her to hate the family’s way of life.

As the crowd dispersed Darius saw two figures picking their way through the boxes on the quay; one man and a girl, both in miscellaneous military garb, a cyborg and a ‘natural’ female.

“Darius to Captain Hanson,” he signalled to Dale. “I think the new captain has arrived.”

*

On hearing of Captain Dane’s arrival Lidia made her excuses and left. She had quite enough of being berated by her little sister and she certainly didn’t want to be present at any scene between Dale and this Bradley Dane. She had not met him and had hoped to have been long gone so that she never would.

“Come on Jan,” Lidia snapped, “and put some clothes on.”

Jan scrambled from the corner and wished for once that she could join the Ad Astra and be free of her mother. “Goodbye Aunt Dale, I’m sorry for… well, I’m sorry.”

“You will be,” Lidia muttered in deep menace, which even caused Dale to throw her niece a sympathetic look.

“Goodbye Jan,” Dale said with a sigh.

As soon as Lidia was gone, Gail Lustrom emerged from the shadows and tip-toed into the common room.

“You heard that I take it?” Dale said bitterly.

“All the way from sick bay,” Gail replied. “What will you do?”

“What can I do? Technically Lidia is within her rights.”

“You could… we could… run,” Gail suggested.

“And go where?” Dale said scornfully. Then seeing the distress on Gail’s face caused by her words, she added quietly, “It’s too late anyway. Dane is already here.”

Just then the sound of a sobbing Jen could be heard; making her way up to her room no doubt. Gail raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“I had Darius spank her,” Dale explained. “I didn’t trust myself yet. The woodshed will come later.”

As a medic, Gail knew well the effects of Phase and understood. “Darius eh? She won’t be sitting down for a few days.”

“And then some,” Dale spat, still angry.

It was a few moments more before they heard footsteps in the stairwell. “He’s here,” Dale sighed.

*

Bradley Dane was as tall as a man ever got in an enhancer culture, which was all the more impressive as he was a ‘natural;’ well biologically anyway, Gail amended. If it wasn’t for his leg, scars and his red eye, he could almost described as handsome, she thought, but one look at the disdain on Dale’s face was enough to tell her that the outgoing captain had more pressing matters on her mind than the physical attributes of this cyborg.

“Ship’s in good shape, an old Melody Class with some refinements isn’t it?” Dane growled as he cast around to take in his new command.

“My great grandfather commissioned her, but it was father who put the time in,” Dale said icily.

Dane nodded and turned back to fix all his attention upon Dale. A resentful crewmate from the old regime was something he didn’t need. However, he had done his homework. Dale Hanson might have some contacts that would suit his purpose, besides he could already tell that if she walked then the crew went with her and he was eager to get going.

“I have a possible first mate already lined up, but…” Dane weighed his words carefully. “They’re not the ambitious type; I expect second mate will do them, if you wanted that job.”

Dale swallowed. It wouldn’t be the first time she had stepped aside for a man; last time it had been all the way down to second mate, but she had been younger then.

“You the doc?” Dane threw out at Gail.

Gail nodded, not wanting to talk to the man until she knew how Dale wanted to play it.

“Cadet Win here can handle herself,” he said nodding at the young tomboy at his elbow, “and with another officer, well we should be able to make a good fist of it; if you all want in that is.” Dane waited for a response.

“I guess I don’t have much choice… captain,” Dale said extending her hand. Dane grunted and gave the proffered hand an impromptu squeeze, like one who was not used to physical contact.

“Jen… my daughter, she’s a good pilot and growing up on this ship, well General Duties come as second nature. She can also handle a loader. Gail is a good cook and can handle tracking well enough. Darius… well he is a bit long in the tooth, but he is still top line.” There was pride in Dale’s voice; pride in her ship and crew. Dane liked that.

“Tammy Win is still learning the ropes, but she can handle GD and coms,” Dane muttered. “Now I want to see the bridge and my quarters in that order.”

Tammy bristled at the suggestion that she wasn’t anything but a hardened old salt, but knew better than to contradict the captain.

Dale’s mouth became a tight line and she frowned. Then she nodded and extended an arm out towards the stairwell hatchway to point the way to the bridge.

*

Michelin Hollister, as she had long called herself, stood legs akimbo with her hands on her hips and took a long hard look at the Ad Astra. Michelin liked the look of her and she had a good feeling about the ship. But then she had a good feeling about most space craft and the prospect of any voyage into deep space; that was how she was made.

She had been made for a lot of things, some of which she wished she would rather forget. But of course she couldn’t wish that she was anything but what she was, because that was just the way it was. It was funny and she laughed whenever she thought about it.

For one thing she had cut her hair like a boy and tried to style herself as the old space-voyager that she was, but even that had made her look more feminine, like the way her boiler suit hugged her ridiculously perfect figure. She even liked that she had failed to dumb down her sex appeal even though she had put a lot of work into doing it.

When I changed my name from Honey, I should have called myself Paradox, Petra Paradox that’s it. Then she laughed again, it sounded like a porn star’s name, see if left to her own devices she could not get very far from what she was and how she was made.

When her old ‘boss’ had gone bankrupt she had picked the name Michelin Hollister at random using dice. It had been the only way to circumvent her conditioning.

Her boss had tried to sell her, but the court did not recognise her as property, even if he did. That had been a blow. It was bad enough to be separated from him, but not to be assigned another owner, well that had hurt. It was not the way she had been made.

Then she had met Bradley Dane. He had understood and had known how to handle her. With the right ‘adjustment’ she could functional happily aboard a star ship almost as easily as she could aboard the boss’s old yacht.

As Michelin crossed the quay towards the Ad Astra she drew a few whistles but it was only the GPSD loading crates that showed any sign that he knew what she was. “Are you with this ship?” She asked him. “I’m to sign on.”

“The Ad Astra, yes. What model are you? If it hadn’t been for your bio-chip I might not have noticed that you were a synthetic.” Darius had long been fascinated by other SI entities, especially those superior to himself. It gave him… something at the very edge of his pre-set mental parameters.

“I have a bio-chip?” Michelin was genuinely surprised.

“Just an ID tag, but it’s encrypted. You are unassigned.” Darius stated a simple truth.

“Oh that, yes I was emancipated by the court after being assessed 100% sentient and with a 90% emotional quotient,” Michelin said proudly. “Apart from a nanite array, I have no machine parts at all. I was grown from synthesised DNA.”

“Yet you were fully conditioned.” The presumption was presented as a fact on Darius’s part. “What is your purpose?”

“I was a pleasure servant with additional duties to assist in the running of my… employer’s yacht.” She nearly said master, but many people resented the use of the word. Not that Darius would, she guessed.

“How are you able to operate effectively if you are unable to perform your primary function?” Darius was shocked. It was a new emotion for him.

“Ship’s duties were a co-primary function with…” Michelin was blushing. She was surprised; blushing usually only ever happened with humans in certain circumstances. Whether part of her conditioning? She could never tell. “There are procedures… work arounds if you will.” Curious she thought. She was suddenly reluctant to talk. The small frisson of embarrassment was… nice. God now she was really embarrassed.

“I am sorry. It is not my place to question a person. I am after all, only a machine.” Darius said, his eye glyphs suggesting contrition.

“Ha,” Michelin spat good-naturedly. “I suspect that you are not ‘only’ anything. I hope we can be friends.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Darius shared his equivalent of a smile. His use of the honorific on account of the download he had just received. Captain Dane was now in command and Michelin Hollister had been assigned as second mate. “I believe you are expected.”

*

The two decks above the common room atrium were reserved for the officers’ quarters, sickbay and a conference room. Then above that was the bridge and captain’s office; separated by the upper stairwell and upper head.

After uneasy all round greetings, everyone but Jen and Darius had assembled on the bridge.

“Where’s your daughter?” Dane rasped as he checked data outputs scrolling down the master screen set in the arm of the captain’s chair. He wanted to be certain that all access and permissions had been transferred to him. Not that he would ever know for certain that Dale hadn’t left some back doors for later exploitation if it suited her.

“In her room I expect. We had… words earlier. Shall I…?” Dale answered trying to sound as she thought a first mate should.

“No matter, we’ll get to know each other soon enough. You’ve all met Michelin Hollister now. Mitch and I have worked together many times in the past. For those who don’t know, she’s a synth. To all intents and purposes she is a regular person and anything else means bugger all to me. But I know some have prejudices about such things, so anyone with shit like that, speak up now.” Dane fixed his eyes on Gail as he spoke, in his experience it was only doctors and priests who ever had real issues with synths and he already knew Tammy and Dale had no problem.

Gail shifted uncomfortably and pushed out her lower lip with a shrug.

“Good,” Dane growled.

“One thing though,” Gail put in, “do synths… I mean does Second Mate Hollister have any special medical requirements?” She remembered to address her comments to Michelin before she finished speaking

“I don’t get sick, but otherwise I respond to standard treatment. Although I will get better without it… in time,” Michelin smiled. “Hey and Doc, just call me Michelin.”

“No one calls me Doc. Gail’s just fine.” Gail grinned. Another grown up on board was just what the doctor ordered.

“If you ladies have quite finished,” Dane said pointedly, beating them down with his eyes.

Tammy kicked the heel of her left foot with the toe of her right boot and looked bored.

“The officers’ quarters are on the deck below this?” Dane threw out and watched Dale nod. “They’re all pretty much the same on a rig like this?” Again he waited for Dale to agree, which she did with a blink.

Dane nodded thoughtfully. “You may as well both keep yours and I’ll take the vacant suite… forward?” He said looking between Gail and Dale.

Again Dale nodded.

“But your daughter will have to relocate to the crews’ quarters with Tammy. I need her room for Mitch here.” Dane switched his attention to the ships schematics again to make sure the layout would support his orders.

“Oh I don’t mind…” Michelin began. The last thing she wanted to do was make enemies on her new ship. Besides her first instinct was always one of service.

“I don’t give a monkey’s toss what you do or don’t mind,” Dane growled. “I don’t expect brass buttons and salutes, but otherwise this outfit gets run by the book. Do ya get me? That means demarcation between officers and crew and correct attire on duty.”

“Yes Sir,” Michelin snapped to attention without irony, although Gail and Dale looked at her a little askance.

“Good enough. Dale, as first mate, you are responsible for crew discipline, but anything detrimental among the officers comes through me.” Dane stood up and his body language signalled that his pep talk was at an end.

Dale nodded. It was usual, but then she thought of Gail. “Officers Captain? Gail is only a warrant is she…?”

Dane rubbed his chin. There was something between these two he realised, should he let sleeping dogs lie or…? No damn it. It was his command. “She’s ship’s doc and effectively in the officer’s mess this trip, so I guess she answers to me. Any further questions?”

Dale shook her head. Gail wasn’t going to like that. Then she caught a glimpse of Gail’s face and thought, maybe she will.

“Four-hour watches, with officers standing each in turn. Everyone on the bridge for a shake down every afternoon watch.” Dane ordered. “Dale you have the crew, Mitch you run cargo and logistics. I trust the robot can run maintenance?”

“We call him Darius, not ‘the robot,’” Dale challenged. “And yes Sir, he can handle everything.”

Dane drilled his first mate with his eyes and looked for a moment like he might eat her. Then he said, “alright, Darius then; all one big happy family.”

*

Michelin didn’t have many belongings and was able to lug all her gear down to the officer’s deck in the one bag. As Jen hadn’t shown for the captain’s induction chat, it had been left to her to evict the girl from her room.

The corridor leading to the officer’s quarters was lined with synthetic mahogany and clean subdued blue lighting that ran all the way to the four doors. Michelin had been told that Jen’s, that was to say her quarters, were the first door on the left. There was no bell-push or other communication so Michelin knocked. There was something dull about the sound that told her it couldn’t be heard inside so she used her access code to open up.

“Hello,” she called without pushing the door wide. “I’m… well the new second mate. I’m sorry but… well the captain has…” Then the door slipped away from her and opened fully by itself.

Michelin just had time to glimpse a half-naked Jen laying face-down on the bed with a decidedly puce stained bottom before the girl leapt to her feet and covered herself. “Who…?” Jen gasped.

“Sorry, I did call out but…” Michelin blushed.

“I-I was sleeping,” Jen blushed equally red. “I usually do after…” She didn’t finish.

“I am sorry. I saw. Who… I mean…”

“I screwed up,” Jen wanted to melt into the bulkhead floor. “Mother… she, well Darius…”

Michelin gave a low whistle. “Handy to know,” she chuckled, “I never knew GPSD’s were programmed for that.”

Jen smiled ruefully on top of her blush. “I think Grandpa Hanson had a hand in that.”

There was a short but awkward silence then Michelin extended a hand and said, “I’m Michelin Hollister, the new second mate. I’m sorry but Captain Dane has assigned me these quarters. I think you have to use the general crews quarters below.”

Without letting go of the towel held to her front Jen took Michelin’s hand and shook it with an awkward smile. “I guess I was expecting something of the sort. Aunt Lidia dropped that bombshell earlier.”

“Aunt Lidia?” Michelin said quizzically.

“Mum’s sister and business partner. Well sleeping one anyway. The new captain…?”

“Dane, Bradley Dane,” Michelin supplied.

“Yeah well, he was her idea. My aunt’s I mean.”

“Sorry.” Michelin pulled a face then to change the subject added, “You’re a mean pilot I hear.”

“Yeah well, I do okay,” Jen said dismissively.

“I’ll leave this here and go now,” Michelin said dropping her bag. “Is an hour long enough to…?”

“Oh sure, thanks…” Jen wanted to be angry, but the situation was hardly Michelin’s fault, “…eh, Ma’am, I guess?”

“Michelin’s just fine. It’s just the captain who rates a ‘sir.’” The second mate grinned awkwardly. And then tossing a key chip towards Jen added “oh you’ll need this access code to activate your new quarters.”

*

Jen took slow careful steps as she slipped down the port stairwell to the crew’s quarters. Her bottom carried a deep full-on aching soreness that could only come from the aftermath of a truly masterful spanking. It was the kind of paddling that hurt even more the next day. Heaven help her if she had to sit in the pilot’s couch anytime that week.

Most of her gear would be stowed in a storage locker by Darius later, so luckily she had just one small bag to carry for her immediate needs. Still it took her a fair time to ease her way to the rec-deck.

When the crew had been bigger, back when Dale and Jen had run with smugglers; a motley crew of pirates and some of the worse scum in the system had played like children on the ball-courts and in the gymnasia in the side rooms. The crew quarters had been in daily use back then, although the teenaged Jen had shared her mother’s quarters.

The quarters themselves consisted of four large rooms down a side corridor; each containing 16 two-meter lockable cubicles, four over four in rows facing each other. The eight-by-four meter space between was often set out as an impromptu lounge with two heads and an open plan shower room at the far end.

As she reached them, Jen saw that three of the crew rooms were still sealed up and that only the one on the far left of the corridor had been opened. This room was empty, although the lower far right cubicle hatch was ajar and there was the sound of running water coming from the shower room.

Jen could take her pick of any of the others she knew and normally she would have chosen an upper deck one, even though it meant climbing up insteps in the outer wall. However, just then the pain in her bottom flared and the thought of the extra effort deterred her. So crossing the room, she key coded the lower left cubicle and watched the narrow door slide back to reveal the tiny room beyond.

There were narrow full-height wardrobes either side of the door but most of the room beyond was taken up with the bed set to the right. Along the left wall were cupboards under a narrow shelf with a small sink sunk in at the wardrobe end and personal interface at the other. There was also a foldaway chair underneath that, which faced the wall that doubled as a screen.

“Oh joy, vids in bed,” Jen said dryly as she tossed her bag onto the bed.

Just then there was a sound behind her and a small naked girl came out of the shower room. Her smooth white skin was devoid of all hair except the short blonde crop that was plastered to her head. Even when she saw Jen watching she did not pause or attempt to cover her small breasts or smooth tight hairless sex. “Hi,” she said with a wave. “You must be Jen. I’m Tammy Win.”

“Yes,” Jen said uneasily from the doorway of her cubicle, slightly taken aback.

As Jen watched, Tammy padded over to her own cell leaving wet footprints on the deck as she casually flicked at herself with a small towel. As she reached her open hatch, Jen saw faint traces of a recent spanking mottling her small high-set bottom.

“Looks like I am not the only one in the wars.” Jen spoke before she could catch herself.

“What’s that?” Tammy stopped at the hatch and looked back at Jen. Then seeing where the other girl was looking said with a giggle, “oh that. I sometimes have an attitude problem that needs taking care of. You too?”

“Something like that,” Jen replied with a blush. “Who…?” She nodded at Tammy’s tail.

“Oh usually the Captain; this was anyway. But as of today I answer to the first mate like you.” Then she disappeared into her small room.

Jen stepped back and sat back on her bed; lunging immediately to her feet. “Sheesh,” she gasped, and then is if to transfer the blame for her forgetfulness she muttered “Looks like we’re under new management.”

*

Somewhere in a storage room at the rear of the ship, Luna sat in the dark wondering when the ship would depart and if she would be able to tell when it had.

To be continued…

No idea what is going on in this Hungarian film, but the poor girl picture above has to hang about naked in a courtyard while some dashing army officers have a long chat. Then she has to walk out to get a mass caning by a lot of strapping men.

No doubt you have seen it and can tell us all about it; if not then be horrified (or enjoy) it here.

As you know A Voice in the Corner was nominated for the Spanking Spot’s Spanking Blog of the Year Award. Well guess what, A Voice was the runner up, so a very big thanks to all those who voted.

The winner was Chross, so in congratulations it is also Blog of the Week.

Renewed Encounters

Rachel felt foolish, scared, but strangely, not a little excited. Maxine had her strip down to her stockings and bodice and then had taken her over her knee.

“Is this embarrassing for you?” Maxine purred.

“Yes,” Rachel squeaked, managing to flush hotly upon her existing blush.

Maxine’s hand stroked the inner surfaces of Rachel’s bottom. “A little damp this end aren’t we?”

Rachel wanted to die.

“Tell me, do you enjoy spanking all those naughty novices?” Maxine’s mouth hung open a little as she reached deeper.

“Please,” Rachel breathed.

Maxine’s hand snapped hard across Rachel’s noble bottom. “Answer the question.”

“Not…not particularly, no,” Rachel gasped. But she thought of Tabitha and blushed still more.

“That is a lie isn’t it,” Maxine chided spanking her student thrice with some bite.

“No I…”

Maxine began a serious spanking now, reddening Rachel’s cheeks and causing her to struggle in her position across Maxine’s knee. “Later I am going to whip you for your slip with the imposition I set. This spanking is for lying; for not trusting me if you like. But if you persist I shall make your life very interesting indeed.”

Rachel crossed her ankles and scrabbled at the foot of the chair Maxine had availed herself of. What could she say?

“Are you listening to me?” Maxine scolded as she spanked on. “I am not particularly nice and I do know what I want. But I have your interests at heart, right there alongside mine. I can read you as easily as I see patterns in water. I was so like you once.”

Rachel began to struggle with her breathing but she still couldn’t answer.

“If you persist in being stubborn I will put you in the corner until my next guest arrives and then I will soundly spank you with my hairbrush for their edification.”

“Please…” Rachel began, but it was a wet plea and a tear rolled down her face; a single silver bead that heralded a flood.

“My, my, wet both ends now,” Maxine said silkily.

“Please Maestro; what do you want me to say?” Rachel wailed.

“Confess.”

“I sometimes like girls. Spanking them I mean. I…”

“Go on,” Maxine paused the spanking and cupped Rachel’s by now quite vivid red bottom.

“Sometimes other things, with Tabitha, sometimes…” Rachel’s eyes darted frantically as the words spilled from her mouth.

“Stand up,” Maxine ordered.

Rachel scrambled to her feet, her hands fluttering in front of her.

“Don’t cover yourself,” Maxine snapped and then she reached out and caressed Rachel’s sex, her fingers brushing her tight dark-furred lips until she found the bud. Rachel gasped.

“Do you enjoy being spanked by me?” Maxine lisped.

“Maybe.” Rachel had never felt this before.

“Do you enjoy this?”

“Yes.” Rachel whispered.

“I am going to spank you until you don’t enjoy it. That’s important. But you will enjoy it later, when you replay it in your mind. When you go to sit down,” Maxine explained. “Now fetch that silver hairbrush from over there.”

A confused Rachel scurried to obey.

*

The spanking had burned. Maxine had plied the brush until Rachel had begged and then she had whispered. “Spank three girls before I next see you and then seduce one of them.”

“Please…” Please what? Rachel just wanted to beg now; for it to stop, for it to continue? She really couldn’t say.

“You heard me,” Maxine said and then she spanked down even harder and twice as long with the brush until she had raised some quite impressive welts and decent swirls of burgundy on Rachel’s statuesque bottom.

“Yes,” Rachel bawled.

Later she was put in the corner and Maxine explained how difficult the whipping would be. “But you could always leave,” she added, “I mean if you didn’t want to play.”

“Please… no, I’ll stay.” Rachel moaned. Was she mad? Her bottom ached and she had felt so silly and embarrassed standing in the corner as she was.

“I have so much to teach you, so very much,” Maxine purred.

“Yes Maestro,” Rachel breathed.

*

Far to the south east in Timbre, Downley was just waking up.

“I hear there is a wizard in the village,” Ellen said as she put the breakfast things out. “Would that be anything to do with our lady?”

Delia Cain froze where she stood and fixed on the middle distance. So Katrin’s friends had come then. “Never you mind, get on with your work.”

Behind her back Ellen parroted her mistress and poked her tongue out. She was just about to go when Cain said, “Ellen, you had better send word to the village and find out if this ‘wizard’ is Dr Fear and his party. Lady Katrin will want to know. And you had best make up a couple of rooms just in case.”

“How many rooms?” Ellen whined, “I mean what if it’s not them…”

“Get along with you girl or I’ll scorch your bottom for you,” Cain snapped, sending the maid scurrying out of the room.

Cain would miss Katrin when she went; the two of them had found some measure of friendship since Sir Mark had left for the war and they had been united in their fears for him. She was just wondering if she should wake her mistress when she saw two figures appear out of the trees across the lawn. One was undoubtedly the famed Dr Fear and the smaller, a girl, must be Katrin’s friend Tabitha.

Just then Katrin entered the dining room and went straight to see what had been laid out for breakfast. “Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning Katrin,” Cain said without looking around. “It looks like we have visitors.”

Katrin looked up and Cain nodded at the window and the view beyond out across the garden.

“The Master,” Katrin squealed and then forgetting she was a lady slammed down her plate and made a dash for the garden doors and out on to the terrace.

“Katrin,” came a girlish shout and the smaller figure broke into a run towards Katrin.

*

“What was the Silver Shore like?” Katrin asked as she poured some tea for Tabitha and Fear. As she pretended to listen for the answer she could not help but steal peeks at Fear. Until that moment she had not realised how much she had missed him.

“Still there,” Tabitha said dejectedly. “It seems so… I don’t know. Maybe if we had time to get out into the desert…”

Tabitha had been disappointed. Her home seemed squalid and small somehow. Her brothers and sisters had been too polite and the younger ones had even hung back to gawp at her. Her previously terrifying stepfather had been almost respectful. He had certainly been in absolute awe of Fear. Only her mother had been as she had remembered; so much to change in a year.

“We weren’t there long,” Fear explained as he took his tea. “Speaking of which, I am sorry, but we must move on tomorrow. We have to get to Sidon, for what I hope will be one last mission.”

“That’s… no fine, I… I’m ready,” Katrin sighed and for the first time that day realised that she would actually be sorry to leave home again.

“What is it Katrin?” Fear leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

Suddenly Katrin was pensive and she affected to fix her attention on the tea things. Not that Tabitha noticed. She had given up trying to explain why her home had seemed so much changed and was now back to her old self gushing about this and that, oblivious to the silent communication passing between Fear and Katrin.

Hovering in the background, Cain was not however, and coughed lightly. “Perhaps you should mention your dreams Katrin.”

Fear closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. So that was it.

Seeing his face at the words Katrin said quickly, “It’s not that,” and got to her feet as she suppressed a wail. There was a hint of tears in her eyes.

Seeing Katrin’s distress she took Tabitha by the arm. “Miss Tabitha, come with me. I must show you the library. Katrin used to spend so much time there, even when she wasn’t supposed to,” Cain said breezily.

“Oh, did she get into trouble?” Tabitha smirked.

“Oh I should say so,” Cain winked.

“Was she punished?” Tabitha asked eagerly.

Katrin might have blushed, but she wasn’t listening. Instead she moved to the window to stare out with her back to Fear.

“Let me tell you a thing or two about that…” Cain was saying as she hustled Tabitha out of the door.

“If it is not that, then what?” Fear pressed her when the others had gone.

Katrin sighed and sat down in a seat by the window.

“In any case, I think you had better tell me about… this beast that is haunting you.”

Katrin nodded and then woodenly at first, and little-by-little, began to describe her ever more vivid dreams.

When she was done Fear nodded thoughtfully. “I have heard of a witch in Sidon who knows of such things. We have to go there anyway before we return to Pandoria, so…” He frowned and studied the girl. She was ashen faced and drawn. He thought of Shula’s words to him and something inside of him lurched a little. Could it be true? Why was he pleased and not concerned by the idea.

“More witches,” Katrin spat. She had been so happy to see him and now she remembered that he would never be hers. That he was Amber Sage’s.

“Katrin, there is something else. Tell me what’s wrong.” Fear let an edge creep into his voice.

“It’s you, you… and that witch. I heard you. I saw you. You were…” Katrin stood up and made to leave.

“What witch, the one in Sidon? I have never met her. What are you talking about?” Fear was more puzzled than angry now.

“Not her, fool. Amber. Your…”

“Amber? What of… what are you talking about?”

“You love her. I saw you with her,” Katrin accused; turning on him angrily.

“Amber Sage? We have a history. You know that. But that’s all it is; a history. When did you see us? What are you talking about young lady? You had better start making sense before tan your backside.”

“I saw you with her. I saw you, she was… naked, you were… after Beltane when…”

Fear frowned a little and the recalled how he had birched his former lover for her handling of Erin. “Why you little… you were spying and poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. What is it to you anyway?” Fear folded his arms and glared at her.

Katrin blushed, her jaw hanging open. “I…”

“Shula said you… you had feelings for me,” Fear said quietly.

Katrin averted her eyes and let her head nod ever so slightly.

Fear felt a little light-headed, the butterflies tickled at his stomach. “Amber and I… it was after she gave up being my apprentice. We would have to… well keep our feelings to ourselves until you are a journeyman at least. Then if… well I could arrange for you to be guided by another.”

“’Our feelings,’” Katrin gushed. “Then you and Amber aren’t…?”

“No, Amber and I aren’t,” Fear said darkly. “I really ought to… you know what. I am going to belt you bare bottom for you.”

“But…”

Fear reached under his black robes and tugged at the large brass buckle of his heavy leather belt as Katrin looked on wide-eyed.

“Master you can’t, I mean please, not here someone will hear us,” Katrin took an involuntary step backwards as Fear drew the leather through the loops of his breeks. But it was not fear but excitement that she felt. ‘Our feelings,’ he had said; our feelings.

“You can place yourself across that table,” he growled, “do it now.”

Katrin looked aghast at the door and considered running. But at that moment wild horses could not have made her run from Arlon Fear.

“Arlon,” she said it as a sigh, the word filling her word.

“Now I said,” Fear barked, doubling the belt and cracking it between his arms.

Katrin’s heart raced and she turned away from him. Then taking small steps she went forward raising her skirts as she did so. “Please Master… Arlon…” but there were no words. On reaching the edge of the table she rucked up the skirts of her dress and leaned over until she could reach the far side.

Fear moved behind her and pulled at the bow holding up her draws which fell easily to the floor in a puddle around her ankles, which extracted a soft sigh from her lips. Her pale firm bottom jutted out towards him and Katrin shuffled nervously drawing her legs together.

“You have been worrying yourself into… into a mess over something that… like a child prying…” his accusations tumbled angrily from his lips pell-mell and he stood away and drew back his arm.

Katrin fixed her eyes on a knot-hole in the wood panel that lined the room and chewed at her lips.

The belt cracked hard across her defenceless bare bottom and she grimaced as the blaze he described there took hold. However the stroke was the first of many and after a dozen biting blast of the leather Katrin, already panting hard, began to grunt at each impact.

In the library Tabitha started at the sound of Katrin’s chastisement and tried to catch Cain’s eye. “Is that…?”

“None of our business, yes I believe it is,” Delia Cain said tartly, for a moment reverting to old demeanour as a governess.

Tabitha giggled and allowed herself to be led out of earshot.

Not so Ellen, whose ears pricked up at the unmistakeable sound of a strapping. Abandoning her work she scurried to the door and put her ear to it. Lady Katrin she thought, supressing a gasp, oh my.

“Master… Sir… Arlon,” Katrin wailed.

Fear smiled at his name on her lips and paused as he studied the dramatic reddening and welts on Katrin’s naked bottom. “Will you snoop about and set yourself brooding again?” He asked firmly, laying another hard stroke of the strap where her bottom met her thighs.

“No Sir.” She wailed, tears rolling down her face.

“Will you trust me?” he raged, striking her bottom again.

“No Sir… I mean yes Sir,” Katrin sobbed miserably.

“I should think not,” Fear sighed, spanking the strap down again as hard as he was able and extracting a loud yelp from Katrin that no one in the house could miss.

To be continued…