Jun 302011


Having arrived home in Los Angeles after a fantastic visit to New York City and Boston, I am exhausted and completely high on life (and spanking!). Where to begin? 
Let’s start with one of the most fun and interesting characters in the ongoing chronicles of Dana Kane Spanks: The Very Bad Boy.

As you recall, I first dealt with The VBB when I received an inquiry from he and his Wonderful Wife regarding some well-deserved disciplining. We met in May for one of the most intense punishment sessions I’ve participated in, and his WW has the video to prove it. (I understand that his behavior has improved dramatically.)

I’m sure you understand my happiness when I received an email from the two of them requesting dual playtime on this most recent east coast visit. These two are proof that FLDD relationships can and do work, and that spanking and discipline play can be part of a healthy and normal exchange.

What follows are The Very Bad Boy’s words on our recent playtime. ..

– Dana


Three Broken Implements and a Small Red Hair Brush

Spankos are often warned that fantasy is often better than reality, but sometimes reality is far greater than fantasy.  What I experienced last week was a reality that out shined any fantasy I could ever come up with. The last time I had the privilege of seeing Ms. Kane was back in May when my wife left me in her capable hands for a very serious punishment session. At the end of our session I mentioned that my wife would be interested in getting together to play the next time she visited the City. Not in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned the reality that was in store for me when my wife and I went to see Ms. Kane this last week. While this meeting was more about playing than punishment I did manage to get myself into a bit of trouble before our visit. All I will say about that is it was not a wise idea on my part to read the e-mails between my wife and Ms. Kane especially after I was told I not to read them.  
I learned two important lessons during this last visit:  first, carefully consider the ramifications of making any smart ass comments while positioned across a spanking bench (or in any position for that matter) and secondly, never challenge Ms. Kane to see if she can indeed break an implement across your bottom.  Unfortunately, being somewhat slow on the uptake it took me a while to learn those lessons, which of course resulted in numerous painful consequences and a few broken implements. The last time we were together Ms. Kane broke two implements on my bottom, so I decided to taunt her just a bit this time to see if she could break any more implements; which I now admit was a mistake on my part. The first implement she broke was the lovely large wooden spoon which she had purchased from a restaurant supply store before her trip. She set out to prove she could break the spoon and would not stop until it was broken. There was no sweeter sound that day than the sound of the spoon finally breaking; I was secretly praying that blasted spoon would break before I broke. The second implement she broke was a small thin paddle which actually stung a lot, so I was quite happy when it finally broke. Not to be left out my wife proceeded to break one of Ms. Kane’s new rattan canes across my swollen butt, which by the way I now have to replace, because somehow “I” was responsible for breaking one of her new canes. Despite my ardent aversion to canes Ms. Kane brought along a number of those wretched implements to include a very thin and whippy fiberglass cane. This small thin fiberglass cane is the most fiendish cane I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing. While all canes strike with an unpleasant stinging this little evil cane produces a very localized harsh sting, very similar to a bee sting. It did not take me very long to learn to loathe that cane and to flinch every time Ms. Kane picked it up.
On the way to our appointment with Ms. Kane we stopped by Jakes .99 cent store where I bought a small red plastic hairbrush about 4 or 5 inches long which I gave to Ms. Kane as a gage gift. She laughed when I gave it to her and said we will use this later and she placed it on the table with rest of her implements. I forgot about the little red hairbrush until she picked it up after we had been playing for about an hour. By that time my bottom was pretty sore and I had some good bruises developing. Ms. Kane brought the little red hairbrush over and I laughed when she told me she was going to use it, I thought there was no way this little hairbrush was going to hurt at all. Well I was completely mistaken; she found a very tender and swollen spot on my thigh and proceeded to slap that spot over and over again. I could not believe how much it hurt and before long I was howling in pain. Somehow both my wife and Ms. Kane found this to be very amusing but I found it to be extremely painful. So I learned another lesson that day, never underestimate what Ms. Kane can do with any implement. Next time I think I will bring a plastic straw instead of a small plastic hairbrush.
Over all this session was beyond my wildest imagination. Although this was the first time my wife and Ms. Kane played together they were in perfect harmony as though they have played together for years. They certainly made a formidable team. I expected a tag team approach with each one taking turns but they actually doubled team me, with my wife on one side and Ms. Kane on the other and they easily fell into perfect rhythm as they applied their skills. Both Ms. Kane and my wife were cognitive of my high pain tolerance and they could sense when I needed a break or when I started to become distressed. They provided plenty of breaks and before beginning again made sure I was both emotionally and physically ready to continue playing. Even though the session was intense I never had to worry that either Ms. Kane or my wife would cross the line into unsafe play or push me beyond what I could handle.
I am grateful to Ms. Kane for the time she took with my wife to help her develop some new skills and to become more confident as a disciplinarian. Although she could have skipped the lessons on using the cane, as my wife is now anxious to try out her new found caning skills. We look forward to the next time we can get together to play, hopefully Ms. Kane will leave her collection of canes behind and we can concentrate on breaking wooden paddles. I wonder if they can break four implements in a single session?

(I’ve added this photo in it’s smallest thumbnail, since the subject matter is somewhat severe. Click to enlarge if you’d care to view a larger image.  – Dana)

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Jun 272011

I do not often cross-post media, but thought that this little Japanese television spanking clip was fun:    – Dana

While I have no idea which words are actually being used, it is pretty easy to get the gist of the conversation:

‘This is the proper way to spank.’
‘Ooh, that stings! May I try?’
‘Like this?’
‘Sort of. Here…let me show you again.’

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Jun 262011

From our UK Laureate, ‘The Governess Makes a Discovery’…and he’s up to his usual form with another amazingly written F/M spanking story. (The asterisks are my edits, for slightly sensitive content.)   – Dana

UK Laureate’s other writings:

The Ballad of Lord Hazlemere
The Blue Umbrella

The Governess Makes A Discovery

London, 1910.

Grace Bennett was nervous as she knocked on the door; she had a task to undertake that was going to be sensitive, to say the least. In over twenty years of service as a Governess in wealthy Edwardian families in the south of England she had never had to do anything like this before. But she had determined it had to be done.

Edward Carrington had been her employer for the past four years. Her primary responsibility was educating his children, Emma, aged six, and James, aged nine. A man of considerable status and means, he considered that home education was more valuable for the children than attending any of the local schools. He had considered sending James to a public boarding school, but having himself been educated by a Governess in the last quarter of the nineteenth century when education in English schools was haphazard and unregulated, he was aware of the value of a first-rate Governess. Miss Bennett was certainly that. Both he and his wife had been hugely impressed at her interview. Her experience and maturity – she was some ten years older than himself – gave her a confidence and stability that he felt would be of huge benefit to his children. This had been even more valuable for the past two years since the sudden death of his dear wife, Helen. He appreciated her willingness to take on extra duties, caring more generally for his children’s welfare in conjunction with Mrs Humphrey, the Nanny he had employed since James was born.

Miss Bennett’s nervousness was due largely to the nature of the task facing her, which required her to contravene the etiquette of Edwardian England. Although Mr Carrington was less formal than many of his contemporaries, he was nonetheless her employer. It was her place to take orders from him, and as a member of staff to execute her duties in such a way as not to cause him any inconvenience or to intrude in his affairs. She was aware she had, inadvertently, already crossed this line, and now she was about to do so deliberately.

“Come in.” Mr Carrington’s voice was clear and deliberate, and Miss Bennett made her way, closing the door behind her. “Ah, Miss Bennett. Good evening. How may I help you?”

“Good evening, Sir. I do apologise for disturbing you but I wonder if I might have a word with you. There is a rather delicate matter that I need to discuss with you.”

“I see. Not a problem with the children, I trust. You know you have my full authority to deal with them as you see fit. Do come and sit down.” Mr Carrington waved his hand in the direction of the chair to the right of the sofa. He waited until Miss Bennett was seated before sitting down himself. There was a brief, awkward silence until Miss Bennett spoke.

“Mr Carrington, I have to begin by making a confession. Yesterday afternoon I went to your study to find a book for Master James and I am afraid while I was there my inquisitiveness took over and I looked at the private papers you had left on the desk. I realise this was wrong of me and I have come to offer my apologies.”

Mr Carrington looked at her with a mixture of sternness and surprise. “I see,” he said thoughtfully, “and having had twenty-four hours to think about it, your guilt has taken over and you have come to offer your resignation. Is that the situation, Miss Bennett?”

“Well, no Sir, not exactly. I recognise of course that you may wish to dismiss me, but ….” Her words were cut off by her employer.

“Dismiss you, Miss Bennett? I don’t think that will be necessary. I am aware of the excellent tuition and guidance you offer my children. I would be hard pressed to find another Governess of your calibre. I think we can put this down as an unfortunate but temporary lapse on your part. I am confident you will not allow it to happen again.”

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your faith in me. However, I am afraid that is not quite the whole matter.” As she spoke Miss Bennett put her hand in her pocket, pulled out a photograph, and placed it on the table in front of her employer. “Do you recognise this?”

Mr Carrington was taken aback, and for a few moments was silent, giving Miss Bennett time to place two more photographs on the table. “Or this… or this?” she asked. She had more, but there seemed no need to reveal them.

“Miss Bennett, have you taken leave of your senses? Why are you showing me these photographs? Where do they come from?” Mr Carrington’s voice now was full of irritated anger, and Miss Bennett, ever observant, noticed that his hands were shaking.

“Mr Carrington, I believe you know full well where they came from. You see I did not look only at the papers on your desk. I opened a number of the drawers and in one of them were these photographs, and many others.”

Mr Carrington leapt to his feet. “This is preposterous, woman,” he bellowed, shaking his fists. “Get out, get out.”

Miss Bennett had no intention of going anywhere, and stayed seated in her chair. Her heart was racing, but she had not yet delivered her message in full.

“Mr Carrington, calm down, I beg of you. We do not want to create a disturbance that is overheard by other staff, or indeed your children. Mr Carrington, as is plainly obvious, these photographs are pornographic, and a number of the others, which I now have in my possession, are, how shall I say, of an extreme nature. It is not for me to judge why you have them or from where you obtained them, but as an upstanding moral citizen, I must inform you that my conscience will allow me to do no other than to pass these photographs to the police. However, you have been a kind employer Mr Carrington, and I felt I owed you the respect of informing you of my discovery and of my intended action.”

Mr Carrington had been pacing the floor as Miss Bennett made her oration. She had prepared her words carefully and was pleased with how confidently she had delivered them. Her employer, however, was in a whirl. Of course he had recognised the photographs instantly, and despite his anger that a trusted member of his staff should have been prying in this way, and his concern for the possible consequences, he had, nonetheless, been able to listen to Miss Bennett’s words. He stood by the window, looking out.

“I realise, Mr Carrington, that this is a highly unpleasant matter,” Miss Bennett continued. “I felt that by informing you, you would be able to contact your solicitor prior to the visit from the constabulary that will inevitably come.”

Mr Carrington continued to stare out of the window. Eventually he turned to look at the Governess. “Miss Bennett, I greatly regret that you have made this discovery and that your opinion of me has been tarnished irrevocably, but I beg you, please do not report this matter. If this indeed becomes public my reputation will be ruined, my business will be destroyed, and what will become of all of us? You are an honourable woman and I pray you can find it in your heart, for the sake of my children if not for me, to be merciful.”

Miss Bennett watched in horror as, having delivered his appeal, the normally steadfast and composed man covered his face with his hands and started to weep. It was as though the capable and highly respected businessman and loving, responsible father had suddenly turned into a helpless, frightened boy. She rose to her feet, walked to him and touched his arm lightly. “I think you should sit down and settle yourself,” she said, quietly but firmly, and steadied his arm as he walked slowly to the sofa, where he sat, head in hands for some minutes. Miss Bennett recognised he had suffered a shock, with which his body and mind was struggling to deal.

Eventually he spoke. His voice was soft, the tone of a broken man. “Miss Bennett, I beg you again, do not report this matter. If I may speak honestly, the past two years has been a great trial for me. You may have thought that I had come to terms with the passing of my dear wife, but barely a moment has passed when she has not been in my thoughts. She was my rock, my foundation, always there for me, and it was her strength that enabled me to conduct my business, and indeed my life, successfully. In my loss I have been unable to contemplate for a moment forming an attachment with another woman,” – his voice faltered as he spoke – “these photographs were somehow a consolation. “ Again he paused. “Yet all the while I was aware that they were a betrayal of my dear Helen’s love. Clearly I would not have wanted her to know of them and if she is looking down from that other place where she now resides then I am indeed a miserable man.” Again he started to weep.

Mr Carrington dabbed his eyes with the silk handkerchief he always wore in his breast pocket. He looked up. “Miss Bennett, you are a mature and wise woman. Pray give me your counsel as to how I might be redeemed from this situation.”

All the while her employer had been speaking Grace Bennett’s mind had been active. She had entertained that he might react to her discovery with anger, or remorse, or possibly even threaten her, but she had not expected such an outpouring of emotion. The more he had spoken, the more she had recognised that her employer was, in many ways, a small boy in a man’s body. His words about the place his wife had played in his life made sense. She was well-aware what a gracious and level-headed woman Mrs Carrington had been, but she had not recognised the extent to which she had ruled the relationship with her husband. In Edwardian society women were required to take a back seat and be obedient to their husband, and outwardly the Carrington’s marriage had conformed to this expectation. The testimony she had just listened to had given her a glimpse, nay, a massive insight, into the underlying truth.

“Mr Carrington, it has grieved me to see you so distraught,” she began, “and I am well aware of the devastation to be caused by the public revelation of these photographs. I will admit to you I am two minds. It is not my wish to destroy you, yet at the same time my conscience tells me that you have sinned greatly and deserve to be punished, for without punishment there can be no redemption. By profession I am a Governess, as you are fully aware. Although I have never had children of my own I have learnt much about raising children, and the correction necessary to free them from their sinful ways. Indeed, Sir, you may recall that when I first met you and your wife, sadly departed, to be interviewed for the position I now hold, you yourself asked about my prowess with the rod. It was a matter of satisfaction to me that our views on this matter were as one. **
 Mr Carrington, it is now in my mind that, on account of actions now known to us both, you yourself, Sir, might benefit from the correction of the rod.”

For a moment Edward Carrington remained silent. On one level her statement was absurd; to suggest that he, a gentleman, be treated like a common criminal was difficult to comprehend. And was Miss Bennett, his employee, suggesting that she perform the deed, thereby inverting the relationship between them? Yet – her stated intention to inform the authorities of the photographs had to be negated at all costs.

“Miss Bennett, as you will appreciate, your suggestion is somewhat unorthodox, yet I cannot deny it has merit. Tell me, is it part of your proposal that you yourself undertake this action?”

Miss Bennett addressed her employer with a firm gaze. “Indeed, Sir, it is. As Governess of this household I consider it fitting that the boundaries of my jurisdiction are extended to include you, in order to deal with the infraction in question. “

“And may I take it that if the matter is dealt with in this way, your intention to report to the constabulary will be revoked?” Mr Carrington enquired.

Again the Governess spoke firmly. “Indeed, Sir, you may take that to be so. Justice demands that sins be punished, but to punish twice for the offence would of itself be an injustice, providing that the penalty imposed is sufficient to expiate the crime.”

“Very well, Miss Bennett. I recognise the wisdom and fairness of your words, and I submit to your proposal.” The now calm, measured tone of Edward Carrington’s voice told Miss Bennett what she wanted to hear. “How do you propose that this matter is executed?”

“I will need time to make some arrangements,” Miss Bennett replied. “I must warn you that the punishment will be, by a distance, the most severe I have ever administered. Accordingly, I must arrange for the house to be empty, save you and me. And my proviso, Sir, is that the application of the rod is in accordance with the traditions I require of all my charges on such occasions. You will be addressed by your Christian name. You will be required to confess your wrongdoing and to request appropriate punishment. You will be required to lower your breeches in order to be beaten on naked flesh. At the conclusion of the punishment, or of each section of the punishment, you will be required to thank me for my attention to your welfare. I trust that is all clear.”

Even Miss Bennett herself was taken aback by the clarity and severity with which she had issued the instructions, given the circumstances.

Mr Carrington nodded. “I understand,” he confirmed.

“I suggest, Sir, that I speak with you again in the morning, when I hope to have news of suitable arrangements having been made. Unless there is anything else, I will bid you goodnight.”

Back in her room, the Governess reflected on the situation. The discovery of the photographs, itself wholly unexpected, had given rise to another equally unexpected discovery about her employer. What is it about little boys, she mused, that they are incapable of living without female guidance? Even when they are older in years, what is it that necessitates their regression to boyhood traits? She did not have the answer to these questions, only the assurance of their truth and a conviction of the necessity of regular correction to facilitate their journey through life.

The next morning, having spoken to Mrs Humphrey, she went again to see Mr Carrington and informed him of the arrangements she had made. The following day, Friday, was Cook’s day off. She had informed Mrs Humphrey that she would be finishing lessons at lunchtime and suggested that Nanny should take the children to the park for a picnic and extended playtime. Mrs Humphrey had been surprised as it broke from their normal routine but had agreed. “The children have been working hard and I think some relaxation and fresh air will do them good,” Miss Bennett had said to her. Accordingly, the house would be empty.

“Mr Carrington, I have been giving further thought to the arrangements,” she continued. “It is my normal practice with the children to administer punishment in their bedrooms, but in the interests of propriety I consider such an arrangement for you would be improper. Accordingly, the punishment will take place in the study, which seems to me entirely appropriate given that is where the offending photographs were stored. The appointment will be at 2.00pm precisely. You will arrive promptly, knock on the door, and wait to be called in.”

Edward Carrington did not demur. Miss Bennett had wondered whether he might have had second thoughts about his agreement but clearly the repercussions of so doing were even less palatable to him. She had been deliberate in making arrangements for the following day, which meant he had another thirty or so hours to contemplate his thrashing. And what a thrashing she intended to give him!

As a Governess she did not take particular pleasure from corporal punishment but she was a firm believer in its efficacy. She believed too that when punishment was given it should be given soundly, in order that it made a lasting impression on the recipient. She wanted her punishments to be feared, and as with all her duties she took satisfaction from administering ‘corrective education’ with skill and professionalism.

Friday morning’s lessons passed uneventfully, for which Miss Bennett heaved a sigh of relief. She had told the children about the afternoon picnic and encouraged them to be on their best behaviour or else it would be cancelled – a circumstance she avidly wished to avoid. Once they and Nanny had left for the park she went to her room and opened the closet where her canes and other disciplinary instruments were kept. Over the years she had collected a variety of suitable instruments, in order that she could vary their use according to the severity of the punishment required.

 Through teacher friends she had acquired a couple of standard rattans, which she had used on occasions, but more normally she preferred her Governess canes, so named after their popularity with members of her profession. These rods were made from a denser species of rattan, thereby imparting a more penetrating sting. Her most well-used rod was thirty-two inches in length and of medium diameter, which meant that it retained all the flexibility that made the rattan so effective. However, on this occasion she reached for her Senior Governess, a somewhat thicker rod, four inches longer than its cousin. She had only ever used it twice, in her previous employment. As she removed it from the closet she recalled the last time it had been deployed.


Miss Bennett did not imagine that she would have a similar problem with Edward Carrington, even though she intended to increase the tariff considerably. At eight minutes before two o’clock she made her way downstairs, rod in hand. Entering the study she walked across to the desk. Quickly she cleared the few items from the top of the desk, leaving only the rod she had placed there, and rearranged a couple of chairs to ensure that she had sufficient space for the deed she was about to execute. She glanced at the clock, which showed three minutes before two. She sat down in the chair behind the desk, normally occupied by her employer, to compose her thoughts.

At precisely the appointed time there was a knock on the door. Deliberately she waited a few seconds before issuing a stern “Enter”. The door opened and Edward Carrington walked in, his head bowed.

“Come here, Edward,” Miss Bennett commanded, her voice as crisp as starched lines. “Stand in front of the desk.” She waited for him to reach the appointed spot.

“Now then Master Edward, tell me why you are here,” she ordered. For several seconds the embarrassed man remained silent. “Come along boy, speak up,” Miss Bennett demanded.

“Please Miss Bennett, I have erred greatly. I have been in possession of items that have no place in the life of a gentleman. I am truly sorry.”

“I see. Well, we shall see how truly sorry you are in due course, Edward. These items that you speak of – what is their nature?” Of course she knew exactly what they were but was determined that he should make full acknowledgement.

“P-p-pornographic photographs, Miss Bennett,” Edward stuttered.

“You naughty, filthy little boy,” Miss Bennett exploded, her tone emphasising her disgust. “How dare you! I shall not explore what other filthy things you may have been doing. The fact that you thought fit to have such wretched items in your possession is sufficient. Have you something else to say to me?” Miss Bennett looked directly at Edward, but he continued to keep his head bowed. “Look at me when you are speaking to me, boy,” she rapped.

“Please Miss Bennett, may I request you to punish me for my sins.” Edward Bennett, gentleman, businessman, highly respected in the community, had been reduced to the lowest ebb, and again he bowed his head in shame.

“Oh yes, Master Edward, oh yes, indeed I will. This is indeed the vilest crime I have encountered from a boy in all my years of being a Governess. You will be thrashed, young man, more severely than I have ever thrashed a boy before. You will be aware, no doubt, that it is the custom to administer the rod by the dozen, with the most normal tariff being half a dozen, or as it is sometimes referred to, six of the best. I have administered previously a caning of a full dozen strokes, which I considered a severe punishment. On this occasion, given the nature of your offence and the fact that you are old enough to know better, it is incumbent on me to award a fitting punishment. You will receive three dozen strokes of the rod.”

Edward Carrington allowed a gasp to escape from his lips. It was many, many years since he had last been punished in this way but even two or more decades on he recalled his suffering and the struggle to take his punishment manfully. What he had just heard was beyond his worst nightmares. However, he managed to maintain his composure sufficiently to respond, “Thank you, M’am”.

Miss Bennett rose, picking up her trusty rod from the desk as she did so. “There is nothing more to be said,” she announced tersely. “Move to the side of the desk, which you will bend over to receive your punishment, and kindly prepare yourself. “ As Edward Carrington took the few steps to the required position, Miss Bennett also moved and turned to face away from him. She waited a full minute. “Are you prepared, Edward?” she asked. Hearing an affirmative reply she issued the order to “assume the required position”.

Miss Bennett turned and walked smartly to a position on Edward’s left. Holding the rod in front of her she measured her distance, ensuring that the rod would strike correctly. She took a deep breath, gathered her concentration, raised the cane and brought it down sharply. The snap as it made contact was followed by a deep, muted grunt from the recipient. Miss Bennett silently counted to ten, as was her regular habit in these circumstances, before delivering a second stroke. A further four strokes followed in like manner.

“Have you something to say to me, Edward,” she asked. “I have always understood you to be a well-mannered boy.”

“Yes, M’am. Thank you Miss Bennett.” Edward raised his head slightly as he spoke but did not lose his position. His arms were spread either side of the desk, his hands gripping as best he could to help him deal with the pain. His bottom was burning from the sting of the rod, but, conscious of that as he was, he was mindful that his punishment had only just begun.

Miss Bennett moved to the far side of Edward. It had long been her practice to divide the tariff equally between forehand and backhand strokes. During her first employment an experienced Governess had explained to her the wisdom of this method, to ensure that both buttocks suffered the additional pain engendered by the tip of the rod. Content her position was correct, she resumed the punishment. The cane swished and snapped as she delivered the next set of six. If anything they were harder than the first set, as was often the case with her backhand strokes. Duly completed, she again reminded Edward of his manners.
“From here on in I shall not prompt you again. You will thank me after each further set of six, or bear the consequences.”

Edward’s backside was throbbing but through his pain he digested the Governess’s instruction. Miss Bennett considered the scene as she walked to resume the position in which she had started. The first twelve strokes had been delivered firmly, occasioning distinctive red weals amid the white flesh.

The second dozen strokes were given in like fashion, six from the left and six from the right. By now it was inevitable that stripes were created over stripes that already existed, increasing the pain considerably, and Edward Carrington had started to moan as the rod continued to land. He was determined to show the utmost bravery, but his determination was now being tested to what, he thought, was near his limit. Lost in his thoughts, he omitted to thank his Governess after the fourth set of six was completed. This fact was not forgotten by Miss Bennett, who had again resumed her original position.

“I fear something has been overlooked,” she announced, her tone displaying her annoyance. Before Edward had a chance to rectify the situation she raised the cane high above her shoulder and delivered a slashing stroke that made Edward cry out in severe pain. “What did you say, boy?” she thundered.

“Ah, ah, ooh… thank you M’am,” he managed to utter through his gritted teeth.

Miss Bennett was not satisfied and delivered another venomous stroke. The rod hummed loudly as it cut the air, followed immediately by another howl from Edward. “What do you say, boy? Speak up,” she again demanded.

“Thank you M’am, thank you Miss Bennett,” he called out. He was gasping for breath but managed to get the words out clearly.

“Very well, that’s better,” Miss Bennett announced. “I trust you are aware that those strokes were additional punishment for your forgetful and disobedient behaviour.”

“Yes, M’am, thank you M’am,” Edward assured her, anxious not to incur further wrath. He was sure he had never felt pain like it, and was praying that the remainder of his punishment would be less severe.

His prayers were not answered. True to her desire to ensure that punishment was administered effectively, it was always her practice to increase the severity of the strokes as the punishment neared its conclusion. Normally, when the tariff was six, this simply meant the final two strokes. Today it meant the final twelve.

Accordingly, for each of the remaining strokes she raised her arm higher, brought the rod down more sharply, and concentrated on flicking her wrist as she made the stroke. This was another technique she had been taught in her early days as a Governess, and she knew how effective it was. Its effectiveness was not lost on Edward, who yelled loudly after every collision of that wicked rod and his backside. No wonder Miss Bennett had arranged for the house to be empty; she was clearly aware what the consequence of the thrashing would be.

Finally it was over. Edward’s backside was covered with a mass of scarlet stripes and purple-red weals, many of them bloodied, but somehow Edward had remembered to express the required appreciation. But having done so the final time, the realisation that his ordeal was finished overcame him. He broke down and started to sob, quietly at first, then more loudly. Miss Bennett watched and waited impassively. It was the reaction she had hoped for. She understood the nature of sin, punishment and redemption. The suffering from the pain of the beating was a just punishment, but for redemption to take place there had to be an outpouring of emotion, as the consciousness of having paid for one’s wrongdoing took hold.

After several minutes, by which time Edward’s crying had subsided, Miss Bennett spoke. “I think you should compose yourself now, Edward, and correct your dress.” Again she turned away to allow him to make himself respectable, but continued speaking. “You have done well, Edward,” she said with genuine warmth in her voice. “I am sure you will continue to think about the events of the past days, and of today in particular, but you may now go forward knowing that your dues have been paid. Do not allow guilt to corrode your mind. Rather, learn from your mistakes. Oh, and by the way, the photographs I took from your drawer have been burnt.”

Miss Bennett began to make her way out of the room, then turned back to address Edward. “I will resume my normal Governess duties now, Mr Carrington, but should you find that young Edward requires further attention at some future time, I am available to assist.” She closed the door behind her and made her way back to her room.

Over the course of the next months and years Edward Carrington approached his Governess several times more to confess a variety of misdeeds, for which Miss Bennett offered her particular brand of assistance. Increasingly, Mr Carrington’s confessions were accompanied by a baring of his soul, knowing that the confidences he shared would be respected and rewarded with empathy and wise counsel. Thus, the professional barrier between employer and Governess was gradually broken down, and some three years after the events of this story, Grace Bennett became the second wife of Edward Carrington – in which role she continued to assist him as required.


Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Jun 242011

Our Cowboy Writer strikes again.

For the rest of Cowboy Writer’s stories:

Taming the Cowboy
Taming the Cowboy II: The Cowboy’s Revenge
School for Husbands



Beth allowed herself a satisfied smile as she put away her best china and cleared the table.

Her tea party with the three ladies from the Women’s’ Guild went very well and she was confident her application would be accepted.

Membership in the developing Western town’s most influential organization for women would give her an opportunity to express her opinions on many subjects and would be the ideal conclusion to a wonderful year for the  local Schoolmistress.

She certainly had attracted attention when she arrived in town from Boston a year ago , to set up the local school. 
The attractive , tall , willowy redhead soon turned  the heads of every eligible male suitor for miles around.

However , it wasn’t long before the candidates  were weeded out .
Most were  unable to handle Beth’s confident manner , intelligence and outspoken opinions on subjects generally considered taboo for women.
Beth was no wallflower and enjoyed debating with men on many issues that other women in town never dare speak of , and she could hold her own in a good argument with any man.

To John Dillon , the muscular , handsome bachelor who owned the biggest ranch in the county ,Beth was both intriguing and a challenge.
Their courtship had been a  fiery one at times , but their true love for each other  blossomed .
After a few months of courting , the two were now husband and wife and had set up their home at John’s expansive ranch .

Having been occupied by a bachelor cowboy for some years , the place certainly  needed a woman’s touch , and Beth was glad to provide it .
Using her organizational skills  as a teacher she began to bring some order to the marital household.
John had proved to be a good , loving husband willing to accept Beth’s assertiveness and opinions but also ready to rein her in when needed. 
They were truly equals who respected and loved each other.

However , John was not without his faults , and was well known for his short temper and wild ways .
He was not known for shirking a fight , and would  use strong language to get his pointr across at times.
Since their marriage there had already been a number of occasions when these faults came to light , and Beth had made it very clear to her new husband that such behavior was not acceptable to her.
To John’s credit he did make an honest effort to correct a lifetime of bad habits when he basically was able to do as he pleased.

Beth’s moment of reflection was interrupted by  a loud commotion outside .
Peering nervously through the lace curtains in her window ,  her jaw dropped when  she saw John involved in a heated verbal altercation with the three Womens’ Guild ladies at their horse and buggy.

The china cup Beth held in her hand dropped and smashed on the floor and her initial shock turned to anger.
“Darn you John Dillon ….you’d better not mess this up for me !” she fumed out loud to herself and she rushed out to calm the situation.

Chapter 2

“What’s going on  John ?” Beth asked her Husband in a firm voice .
“Mrs. Dillon…..your Husband has used some uncalled for language towards us  I do not care to repeat. 
You should know , he also had some very uncomplimentary things to say about the Women’s’ Guild !” Mrs. Parsons , the Guild President fumed at Beth.

Beth put her hands on her hips and glared angrily at her Husband .
“Is this true John Dillon !” she asked angrily .
Sensing his wife’s fury John could only shrug his shoulders .
“Yea…. sure….I did call them a …er um ‘cackle of interfering old biddies’ …..and I did use a few cuss words…., but Beth …. they were being so uppity and rude with me … !” he tried to explain .

His response served only to enrage Beth even more.
“John Dillon …..this is just another example of that bad temper of yours which I’ve warned you  about before !  I will not stand for it ……do you understand ?
These ladies are my guests and you have no right to insult them .
Get yourself  up to the woodshed and I’ll be there shortly to deal with you !” she yelled to gasps from the ladies .

John was speechless and could barely muster  a  coherent babble upon hearing his wife’s order “ But…uh… Beth….aww…..but…”
“Don’t say you weren’t warned …Get going !” Beth lectured ,  pointing in the direction of the woodshed perched on a small hill beyond the ranch house.
His last visit there was as a boy  when he received a sound licking from his Mother.
Surely his new  wife had no intention of doing the same , but deep down he knew Beth was quite capable of doing exactly that ! 

He recalled those ‘warnings’ Beth referred to but he had not paid much attention to them at the time.
The last time was when he had lost his temper and swore at one of the young ranch-hands.
Beth had surprised him by immediately delivering a powerful slap to the seat of his denims which stung and sent up a cloud of dust.
“That’s  just a sample of what you’ll get from me if I ever hear you use language like that to those young boys !” she had warned him.
On other occasions she had told him he ‘needed  a sound  thrashing’.

John realized he should have known better .
As the local schoolteacher , she was well known for her strict discipline and many a naughty boy had realized the error of his ways after Beth applied a dose of her trusty  strap to the seat of his pants.
Now he was in the same position , and could expect the same treatment.
Red-faced  and  embarrassed , John  spun around and walked briskly to the woodshed . 

Beth turned to face Mrs. Parsons and the other ladies .
“I really do apologize for my Husband’s behavior ladies , and  be assured that after I’ve dealt with him an appropriate apology will be forthcoming .
I surely hope this incident will not affect my application ?” 

Mrs. Parsons smiled and shook Beth’s hand in admiration.
“ Of course not Mrs. Dillon…we at the WG understand that our menfolk can be somewhat unruly at times…..a little discipline would do them the world of good.
Uh….er…. may  I ask what will happen  to your husband ?” 

Beth smiled “ Of course you may  Mrs. Parsons.  He’s going to get a lesson which will remind him of his bad manners……in fact he’ll be reminded every time he sits down for the next few days !” she explained confidently.
“I’m sure you ladies would do the same to your husbands ….wouldn’t you ?” 
Mrs. Parsons and the other ladies tittered like schoolgirls .
“To be honest we haven’t tried …..but it does sound interesting “ one of them commented   “perhaps you could give us a lecture at our next meeting ?”

 “I’d be delighted toladies …. Anything to help bring some much needed civility to the men of this town . 
The way to a man’s heart may be through his stomach , but the way to his head is through the part of his anatomy which makes contact with his saddle!” Beth declared .
The women laughed heartily as they nodded agreement.

“Well we’d best be on our way and leave you to your….uh…business Mrs. Dillon” said Mrs. Parsons happily as they rode off to a friendly wave and a smile from their hostess.

Beth’s smile turned to a scowl as she spun around and made her way determinedly to the woodshed .


Fuming , Beth flung the shed door open dramatically.
John put both hands up in an attempt o stop her advance towards  him.
“Now Beth…listen to me ….let me explain…..I know what I did was wrong …..but I’ll apologize …and I’ll make it up to you …..” he stammered.

Beth remained resolute and silent , advancing to confront her errant husband  until he had backed into a corner.
“John Dillon ,  the time for talking is over …now you’re going to get what you’ve been needing for a long , long time .” she seethed through gritted teeth.

“Now take down your britches and bend over ! “ she ordered firmly.
Her husband’s was still stunned at rge turn of events .
 “ You…you can’t be serious …Beth…..but honey …you can’t ..” John stammered .  Beth’s  reaction was a  steely determined glare into his eyes. 
John  pondered  launching  another appeal but he quickly realized the right thing to do was to accept his punishment from his wife.
With a loud sigh he began undoing the buckle of his belt.
“Yes dear…” he murmered.

Beth looked around the shed and  selected some long , thin rods to serve as a switch. John  watched her nervously and gulped when she made a menacing swishing sound with each switch to test its effectiveness.
John lowered his pants to the floor and glanced warily over his shoulder before assuming the bent over position .

After finally settling on a  switch to begin John’s punishment ,  Beth walked over to her bent over husband and stood behind him to his left side.
RaisIing the tail of his shirt she carefully  placed it on his back to reveal his faded long johns.
“Get these down too……your getting this on the bare bottom husband  !” she said impatiently patting the seat of her husband’s last remaining garment.
“Awwww…geez Beth ……” John whined but  he stood up and yanked his long johns to his knees as he was told.
 He felt the cool breeze on his bare skin  when he bent over again and braced for the first stroke of the switch.

Beth teased her husband by brushing the switch across his rump , tapping it lightly.
She smiled , observing his cheeks clench in anticipation.
Then she raised the switch high above her head and it whistled through the air on its way down to meet its target.
There was a swish and a loud crack as it made contact , slashing against John’s exposed skin.
John gritted his teeth and breathed hard as the sharp sting of the first stroke set in .
He couldn’t believe how much it stung.

His wife continued with his  switching  administering brisk , uninterrupted , rapid-fire strokes  to his exposed rear.
John tried but he could no longer hold his composure .
He yelled and howled instinctively as the switch danced around his buttocks and upper thighs .

He could  feel the raised red welts forming each time the switch seared  into his skin.
Buoyed by the  effectiveness of the licking she was administering , Beth  continued with the switching enthusiastically.
She noticed he was having trouble staying in position , hopping  from foot to foot , and wiggling his rear in an attempt to avoid the onslaught.

Beth paused. 
“Stay in position and stop moving or you’ll get it worse!” she warned.
Discarding the switch , she raised her palm and brought it down heartily on John’s right cheek.
Surprised by the change , John yelped and bucked forward.
Beth delivered a non-stop flurry of 20 or so solid spanks all over her husband’s bottom until her was crying for mercy.

Having reduced her strong , tough husband into a whimpering schoolboy Beth was finally  satisfied that he had learned his lesson.
She stopped the spanking and allowed him to stand up.
John staggered to his feet , moaning and breathing heavily.
His entire backside and tops of his thighs was a blazing red and dotted with raised welts from the switch.
He would be feeling the effects of this punishment every time he sits down for the next few days.

Beth’s amusement was evident while she watched with arms folded as her strong husband danced and bounced around the woodshed trying to rub the sting and burning from his bared rear, his pants at this ankles .
He finally gained enough composure to face his wife.
Tears welled in his eyes and he was truly a humbled and sorry man.
“Well? Do you have anything to say?” Beth asked in her classic Schoolmarm tone.
“I’m s…sorry  Beth..” he replied in a  faltering  voice.
“Good …supper will be ready in ten minutes…  “ she said calmly and turned to leave her husband in the woodshed to nurse his wounds.

Beth strode confidently back to the Ranch-house under the gaze of some  ranch-hands working on a fence near the woodshed.
Judging by their expressions it would appear they had heard everything.
When John finally emerged from the shed he stoicly tried to act as if nothing had happened , but the Ranch-hands knew his wife had given him more than a good talking to.
The discomfort in his rear-quarters forced him to walk with a distinct limp and the grimace on his face told the story.
Knowing better , the workers hid their smirks  and went about their work.

 John ate supper that evening standing up using the mantle as his table.
“I’m sorry Beth …..I behaved poorly and deserved that licking you gave me …” he said calmly ,  picking at his plate.
“You still have to go over to Mrs. Graves’ house tomorrow to apologize …” Beth reminded him.
She stood up and planted a kiss on John .
“Come on you big lug….help me clean up the dishes  and I’ll put some ointment on to ease the sting …” she offered. 


“Are you almost done darling? ….the ointment is ready !” Beth called out from the bedroom as John dried off the last dish.
John tossed the dishcloth aside , undid the apron he was wearing and entered the bedroom. 
The sight before him left him speechless.

Beth lay face down on the bed …. completely naked….her head propped up by a palm on either side of her  pretty face.
Her firm breasts presented themselves invitingly and her white , pert bottom wiggled seductively , beckoning  him to her.
The punishment Beth had delivered to her handsome husband had fueled a fire in her loins which needed to be tended !

Beths long red hair , normally tied up with ribbons or a pony tail , cascaded over her shoulders and back.
She patted the bed beside her “ Come lie down here dear and I’ll apply the ointment to your poor bottom.”she purred.

John quickly disrobed and lay face down , allowing Beth to gently apply the cool ointment to his swollen , red buttocks .
Beth’s hands wandered all over his muscular frame  .
She eased John him over on his side and  ***.

The fire in John’s rear-quarters had fueled the fire in his loins.


They spent the entire night continuing to make passionate love that neither of them had experienced before.


The next morning Beth kissed  her husband and handed  him a cup of coffee as he lay in bed .
“OUCH..” John grimaced when he brushed his rear on the bed trying to sit up.”
Beth giggled “ Best get used to lying on your side darling…..I’m afraid its going to be  a while before you can sit down comfortably” she remarked.
“Now finish your coffee and get dressed …..there’s lots of chores to be done ..” Beth announced.

John smiled “My first job will be take  down that darn woodshed so you won’t be able to give me another switching “ he threatened.
Beth laughed and walked over to her dresser.
“Well then I’d just have to use the hairbrush instead my husband  !” she replied brandishing her large wooden brush.
She looked up to ponder , putting a hand on her tiny chin.
“Let’s see now….your razor strap is another excellent option …then there’s the big wooden spoon in the kitchen…..and …” she added.
John put up a hand to stop her.”I get it…I get it …”
Beth wagged the brush at him “Oh you’ll get it alright if you don’t get dressed real fast!” 
John promptly stepped out of bed.

John did his chores , leaving the woodshed intact , and then walked to town to deliver his apology to Mrs. Graves.
It wasn’t going to be  easy , especially since she knew that Beth had given him a sound thrashing .
The older lady accepted his apology with grace.
“It takes a strong man to admit when he is wrong Mr. Dillon….. and an even stronger one to permit his wife to chastise him when he deserves it .
 I imagine  you are quite…er….sore today ?” she enquired curiously.
John blushed as he put a palm gingerly to the seat of his denims.
“Lets just say my wife knows how  to get to the seat of a problem Mrs Graves .“ 
The older lady grinned.
“You can tell Mrs. Dillon she’ll make a fine addition to the women’s guild Mr Dillon …and if it makes you feel any better …. I’m sure  you won’t be the only man in town who has  had a date with his wife in the woodshed. “


After a few days John’s backside was still tender but had recuperated enough  to sit down , so he decided to set  up his usual Friday night poker with his old friends Judge Beckett and Marshal Brown.
These were the two most powerful men in town and over the years the trio had enjoyed their men’s night out of gambling ,  cigars and whiskey.
John had not hosted a poker night since he married Beth so his turn was long overdue.
Beth was out giving a lecture at the Women’s Guild meeting that evening , so John figured it worked out well.
He didn’t bother to tell Beth as he expected they would be finished before the end of the Womens Guild meeting , which their wives also enthusiastically attended .
He knew Beth would not approve of the gambling , drinking and smoking  and  he  would have lots of time to tidy up before Beth arrived home anyway.

John poured a drink for the Judge when he arrived and beckoned him to his favorite armchair. “Er …uuh …thanks John but think I’ll stand for a while…..stiff back sitting at court all day you know ….”he mumbled.
John became curious when  , Marshall Brown also declined a seat , complaining to be  saddle sore from being on his horse all day.
John put a hand to his chin.
“Tell me gentlemen……. we’ve been friends for a long time ….have your wives been attending Beth’s lectures at the  Women’s Guild  ? John asked.
Both men looked at each other before nodding.
“So by any chance have you two had a ….’trip to the woodshed’ recently ?” he asked.

Both mend looked away and coughed , nervously staring down at  their shoes.
The Judge was first to speak.
“You know , it took a lot of guts for Mildred to take me upstairs and thrash my behind the way she did  ….and you know something ? I darn well deserved it !” he said , looking relieved.

“Martha took one of those canes from her garden .. ….and striped my butt good !” The Marshal declared.
John and the Judge grimaced in unison as they pictured the scene.
“ I Deserved every lick though….” The Marshall added 

Having a common experience unified the friends even more and the whiskey and ciigars  flowed freely.
After a few more drinks the Judge blurted “ I’ll tell you one thing gentlemen … that strapping  was worth every lick … Mildred was as frisky as a showgirl afterwards !”
Marshall Brown nodded in agreement  “ .. Martha was like a savage girl after  she’d  whipped my behind …..”
John laughed and poured some more drinks “ Here’s to our wives !’ they toasted.


Meanwhile down the street Beth was standing in front of a standing room only throng of women at the Ladies Guild meeting holding up a wooden hairbrush.
“I’m sure you each have one of these at home in your dresser ladies …..if not I suggest you get one at the General Store.  
You need to add this  weapon to your arsenal !
A strap pr switch will smart and sting but a good dose of the back of this hairbrush will really get your point acrosske !
Don’t forget ladies …to apply the hairbrush properly your man must lie across your knees as you sit down.
This will be more comfortable for you more  , give you better accuracy and will be  most humiliating for him…..” she continued on as the hushed room listened intently.

Beth’s talk received a standing ovation from the thrilled audience.
She was the most sought after person in the room as the ladies enjoyed their tea and cake afterwards.
sat on her horse sand buggy for the short ride home.
Sitting  on her buggy for the ride home , she had a very satisfied feeling …and  all that talk about spanking at the meeting also excited her in other ways. !
She just couldn’t wait to get home so her husband could make passionate love to her .
When  she arrived at the Ranch she  was surprised to see two horses tied outside .


Inside the ranch house , the three menhad lost all track of time and were surprised when Beth returned home and observed the card game still in progress.
All three men quite drunk and the house a complete mess.

Beth surveyed the mess around her without  saying a word ..
“Uuuh…..guess we better get going  ….getting late …..bye Beth ……” the Judge stuttered as the pair  hurriedly left the room in short order.

Beth closed the door behind them and John stood up.
“Don’t worry Beth….I’ll clean it up…..” he reasoned.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this John ? This is yet another example of your selfishness and inconsideration !” Beth said ,  standing with arms folded and foot tapping.

While ohn scrambled for a response , Beth  dug into her bag , pulled out the hairbrush and grabbed John roughly by the ear.
Unable to free himself without ripping off his ear John moaned for her to free her grip.
Beth pulled out a chair from the table and sat down on it , placing the hairbrush on her lap.
With her free hand she expertly began undoing her husband’s denims , yanking them down to his ankles.
When he  protested she glared up at him angrily and  roughly jerked down his long johns .
She tipped  him head first across her lap , and he landed with his legs high in the air and his  nose almost touching the floor.
Beth took hold of the hairbrush and adjusted his position across her lap , surveying her target.
John’s struggled to balance in his position and his muscular buttocks tensed in anticipation .
His white cheeks still showed a few faint marks  from his earlier thrashing  but Beth intended to add some much needed color to them.

Just as she had described at the meeting , Beth  proceeded to administer a textbook hairbrushing to her Husband’s bare bottom.
He howled , kicked and struggled in vain over her lap.
The hairbrush  tattooed red ovals on his skin  untill his entire bottom was flaming red.
A few areas where the brush had landed repeatedly were becoming blistered.
Undeterred , Beth continued to bring down the hairbrush on her target .
Loud cracks echoed around the room.

Outside on the porch the Judge and the Marshall had paused to listen to their friend being spanked hard by his wife.
They were just like a couple of kids ….part of them wanting to run but their curiosity forcing them to stay and watch through !

John bucked violently on her lap when Beth delivered a final flurry of smacks  and dumping her husband off her lap onto the floor.

Hairbrush still in hand she calmly walked over to the telephone .

“Hello Mrs.  Beckett ….its Beth Dillon…..fine thank you ….glad you enjoyed the talk.
I just wanted to let you know that your husband  is  here …he’s been drinking , gambling , smoking and also has made quite a mess at my house !
I suggest you greet him with the hairbrush when he arrives home..
Would you mind popping over to Mrs. Brown and let her know that the Marshall is here  also….you’re welcome…goodbye “. Beth put down the phone .

The two men stared at each other and raced for their horses to head home to face their wives.


John had somehow struggled to his feet and was standing before Beth  sporting  an expression as painful as his scorched bottom.
His pants and longjohns were still at his ankles and s he clutched his buttocks with both hands.
Stooped to pull up his pants M,  Beth put her hand up to stop him.
“Get those pants right off Mister…” she ordered .
“Aw Beth….not more….I’m soo sore….honest….   “ he pleaded backing away.


John cried out when Beth  took a firm grip of his well spanked cheeks with both her hands. 
Her long red pony tail whipped around violently .
Hauling Beth to her feet , he spun her around and she positioned herself face first over the kitchen table.
Glasses , bottles and playing cards flew to the floor as Beth positioned  herself across the table.
John hoisted her  dress and petticoats and Beth moaned  for him to hurry .

John finally caught sight of her lace pantaloons which was the last layer of her clothing between him and the jewels  he sought.
Beth’s long ponytail swung around her shoulders wildly narrowly missing her husband’s face.
Exhausted , sweating and breathing heavily they both lay prone for a few moments.

They both stood up and turned to face each other.
John embraced Beth  tightly and their lips locked in a long , lingering kiss.
As the kiss continued they both kicked off their remaining garments.
Standing  naked , Beth squealed in amusement when  John scooped  her up ,flung her over his shoulder and carried her to the bedroom .

Meanwhile back in town , two of the most distinguished men in the County, were  sporting two of the reddest , sorest backsides in the County.
As they lay in bed with their very satisfied wives , they wondered  what the Women’s Guild would come up with at their next meeting !


Since Beth’s work began at the Womens Guild , life in the small town had changed noticeably.
Everyone seemed happier ,friendlier and relaxed.
Men were visibly more respectful towards their wives , opening doors , addressing them politely and  helping them with the household chores.
Couples and Families were spending more time together.
Drunkiness , fighting and rowdiness had declined significantly.

The Womens Guild credited Beth’s initiative for much of the change and had elevated her to Vice-President.
She and Mrs Parsons , the Guild President , became members of the Town Council and were able to pass a number of bylaws which made the town more respectable .  
Beth also became  Editor in Chief of the local newspaper and now the paper now carried many articles for or about women’s rights.

Marshall Brown had hired a female Deputy , Annie Woods , who was proving to be very efficient in maintaining order in the streets. 

In a controversial move , Judge Dermott insisted that men appearing before him charged with being disorderly or similar offences  be accompanied in court by their wives .
He now had the authority to waive the normal sentence of a fine or jail term upon condition the guilty man’s be released into his wife’s custody for administration of ‘domestic discipline’.

Needless to say Beth was very proud of her work but remained modest by crediting all the women in town for the changes.

At home , Beth and John’s relationship continued to flourish .
John’s bouts of temper , rowdiness and other faults occurred less frequently , but  when they did happen , he knew the consequences.

Beth firmly believed in disciplining her husband as soon as the offending behavior occurred .
This would  occasionally create an embarrassing situation for John .
If the couple was at home when the offence occurred , John would be quickly sent  to the woodshed or the bedroom where Beth would administer a sound bottom warming with a switch , hairbrush or strap .

If John’s misbehavior occurred in public , Beth  had to wait for an opportune time to take the appropriate corrective action.
This was rare , but on one occasion John had been rude to some visitors at a reception she was hosting at the Town Hall .
Beth was forced to intervene and escorted her husband to  the Judges Chambers.

The couple returned some time later , arm in arm and , smiling and content.
John’s smile  was somewhat  forced and his walk suggested he was suffering from discomfort in his rear-quarters
Most of the Ladies present smiled smugly ,  realizing  John had received more than a lecture from his wife in the chambers.!


The Judge’s Chambers had offered Beth and John  the privacy they needed  for carrying out a domestic discipline session , but Beth did not have any of the usual implements she would normally used at home to chastise her Husband.
The only option was a sound , old fashioned , over the knee hand spanking with her hand!

As her long formal dress restricted her movement , Beth decided to remove it and administered her husband’s spanking in her undergarments!
Even John was  surprised at the power with which Beth  delivered the long hard spanking he received. 
She heartily slapped his bare buttocks and upper thighs until they were redder than a ripe tomato and  her  palm stung . 

John performed his usual post spanking “dance” around the room rendering Beth was very aroused by the situation.
She reached stepped out of her silk drawers and  John , lready naked from the waist  down needed no encouragement responding to his wife’s asvances.
They wildly made love right there on  the Judges desk!

John made sure to let his wife know how well she had spanked him , but she reminded him when they returned home after the reception he would be  over her lap again for a “proper” correction with her hairbrush.
John’s  ‘double whacking’ made sitting down very challenging for John the next few days. 


One of Beth’s new projects for the Womens’ Guild was the “Husband Report Card” which she developed using her skills as a School Teacher and tested at home with John.
Every Saturday  Beth would go through a list of ‘subjects’ and would grade John on each one.
John was allowed to give his opinion but,  as in School , Beth’s decision was final.
If John’s overall grade fell below a B- , he would receive discipline  according to his grade.
Beth was a tough marker and constantly raised the bar for her Husband so , despite his improvements , after 6 report cards  John was still shooting for that elusive B-.

His best performance was a C which still earned him a full dozen ‘stingers’ with  the razor strap.
After a particularly bad week , a disappointed  Beth awarded John his first  F grade.
For this lowest of the low marks John received a  pre-breakfast switching and a bedtime hairbrushing every day for the next week !
The only consolation for John was the knowledge that Beth was so sexually ravenous after these discipline sessions  he was assured of a rapture filled love-making session !

The Womens’ Guild adopted Beth’s report card unanimously and it was soon in use in homes all over town .

The local newspaper began  publishing articles entitled “Disciplining your Husband “ and “ Beyond the Hairbrush” as more and more women ‘warmed’ to the trend.
Beth invited  a delegation from the Womens Guild to the Town Council Meeting and they were able to pass a by-law which legally empowered  wives to discipline their Husbands for certain domestic offences.
Judge Dermott received a deadly glare from his Wife Mildred when he made the legally sensible point that it was only fair that Men should receive the same right towards their wives.
“No real Gentleman would even contemplate laying a hand on a lady in such a fashion !” came the outraged reply from the Womens Guild representatives.
Later that evening Mildred Dermott  severely roasted the Judge’s ample derriere  with her hairbrush for daring to even make such a suggestion !

The dramatic change  in the town was soon attracting attention across the State , and the Governor sent a representative to investigate their success.
Beth was excited at the news .
The revolution had begun !


Horace Tweed , the Governor’s representative , arrived in town and was very impressed with the quality of life .
As part of his assignment he had attended one of Judge Dermott’s court sessions to evaluate the type of cases being heard.
He was pleased to see that all the offences were quite minor , but curious that all the offenders were men and that in all cases the Judge waived the normal State penalty and placed the accused in the custody of his wife to receive “appropriate correction”.

Tweed obtained his answer when he browsed through the town bylaws and he  came across by-law 13:
‘For certain offences committed by Married Men such as drunkiness , swearing , fighting , rowdiness or general inconsideration towards his wife  the State penalty may be waived on condition the offender be released into the custody of his wife who will be responsible to administer appropriate discipline  in private at the Marital home.
Such discipline will be in the form of corporal punishment applied with a strap , switch , hairbrush or similar instrument  to the offender’s  bare buttocks .’

Tweed shook his head and read it again , barely  believing his eyes.
After discussing the matter with Judge Beckett , he was referred to speak to Beth .
She gave him a very thorough and articulate description of the changes  happening  in the Town.
Tweed was very impressed  , as was the Governor when he read the report.
In fact he was so impressed he made a request  for Beth to come and meet him .


Beth was in awe of her surroundings as she entered the Governor’s Mansion , her eyes soaking up the opulent surroundings.
She felt so small as she sat in the huge room with high ceilings and expensive paintings on the wall.
After a few moments the sound of footsteps on the marble floor were audible and the huge door of the room opened.
Governor Jones strode confidently in and smiled broadly at Beth and then  stooped to kiss her hand.
“Welcome Mrs Dillon , I’ve been looking forward to this meeting “ he said kindly .
The Governor was a tall , surprisingly handsome man in his early forties with well groomed dark hair tinged with distinguished shade of gray on the sides .
His well tailored suit and confident swagger added to his attractiveness and Beth was  pleasantly surprised .

Jones chatted casually with Beth as he showed her around the mansion .
They  finally arrived at his expansive office where he took a seat behind a massive , well polished desk.
Beth settled into one of the plush visitors chairs and they continued their  vibrant discussion on state politics.
The Governor commended Beth for her work in improving womens’ rights , equality and quality of life in her town.
“Frankly I’m quite amazed that you were able to achieve this in such a male dominated state like ours Mrs Dillon .
I’m particularly impressed by your powers of pursuasion to be able to convince the men in your town to accept these changes. “ he declared.

Beth leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs , now feeling very comfortable in her environment.
“Governor , you have to understand that we women know very well how their men think. Inside all men is a little boy , and inside all women is a Mother. 
Men crave the discipline of a loving Mother ,  and his Wife simply assumes this role  when they marry.
They accept that when they do something wrong they should be punished ….and who is better to do this than their loving wife.”
The Governor listened intently as Beth continued.
“The laws we passed offer protection for the men by providing an alternative to the State penalties which deprive them of income by  placing them in jail , or by  taking away  their hard earned money in fines.  Money that should be used to feed their families.
As a Schoolteacher I know corporal punishment is much more effective  for men and boys.
It does not reduce their income or keep them away from their families , ands it is effective and swift justice  controlled by order of the court…..and of course there can be  other pleasurable benefits to a marriage when this practice is adopted. !
 Both Husbands and Wives have reported significant enjoyment of their conjugal relationship as a result of domestic discipline.”

The Governor gulped and appeared visibly uncomfortable with Beth’s openness .
“ I have arranged a luncheon in the next room Mrs Dillon…..and my wife , Mrs Jones will be joining us ….she really is looking forward to meeting you.“ he announced .
The Governors wife was a petite and very pretty lady , who looked somewhat younger than her Husband.
She and Beth quickly warmed to each other and , unlike the Governor , Mrs Jones could not get enough of Beth’s views on domestic discipline.
The Governor failed in his repeated attempts to change the subject .
The two women ignored him and continued their intense conversation on the subject.  
Finally , completely frustrated ,  Governor Jones raised his voice “ Ladies , ladies…. may I ask that we talk about something else !“.

The two women stopped talking , looked at each other,  and then at the Governor.
Mrs Jones glared icily at her husband “ Really Henry…..how dare you interrupt our guest  in that manner !
It was totally uncalled for. 
Just because you’re the Governor does not mean that you are the center of attention all the time !” she fumed.
The Governor was rendered speechless.
Beth smiled and leaned over to whisper something in the older lady’s ear.
Mrs. Jones’ giggled with delight , her face lighting up in satisfaction.
“Why of course I will my dear….you are absolutely right ……that is an excellent suggestion “ she responded  , looking thankfully at Beth and sent the Governor a frightening glare.


Lucy Jones  berated her husband “Oh stop being such a big baby Henry…..I’m far from being finished with you after the way you’ve behaved….“ 
She paused to glance at the  glowing red backside on her lap before raising the hairbrush again to resume the spanking .

The Governor pushed  his palms onto  the floor to steady himself and braced for the next wave of blows.
His wife had learned much from her lunch discussion with Beth Dillon to be capable of  administering a  very effective hair-brushing .
She had been putting up with her husband’s selfishness , bad manners and inconsideration for too many years , and now she was warming to the task of giving him his long overdue comeuppance.

Henry knew he had brought this on himself by inviting Beth to meet him .
He could not disagree that his behavior over the years merited such correction at the hands of his long suffering wife.
Lucy continued to pepper her husband’s buttocks and upper thighs with the hairbrush.
It was only when his bottom was well and truly blistered that she unceremoniously dispatched him from her lap into the floor.

The humiliated Politician stood up unsteadily with head bowed.
Gingerly he rubbed his roasted rump.
Lucy strode over to him , boldly taking hold of his shirt and hoisting it up to his naval.
“Come with me Henry….I know exactly how to deal with this !” she whispered lustily and led her husband over to the bed.

The Governor and his wife were positively glowing when they arrived , arm-in-arm for breakfast the next morning.
Glowing even more was the Governor’s bottom , which felt like he had been sitting on hot embers !
“I trust you slept well Mrs. Dillon? “ Lucy asked.
Beth grinned “I certainly did ….and you ?” Beth replied.
Lucy and her husband looked at each other mischieviously .
The Governor coughed nervously before responding “ Actually , neither of us slept very much Mrs. Dillon…”


John was pleased to see Beth’s return from her visit with the Governor as he helped her out of the Stagecoach.
John hauled Beth’s luggage into their buggy and kissed her when  he sat down beside her.
“You’ve been making headlines I see…. .” John smiled , pointing to the Newspaper beside him.
Beth tittered and eagerly picked up the newspaper.
She didn’t have to read far.
‘Governor Jones intends to propose a new bill on State Penalties ‘ read the front page headline.
Apparently the Governor was so impressed with Beth’s initiatives he was ready to introduce the reforms for the entire State !
“Looks like you made quite an impression with the Governor .” John said.
Beth smiled impishly. “ Actually it was his wife who made the most marked impression on the Governor “ she chimed .
John looked at Beth in disbelief.
“Beth!  Surely you didn’t ad vise his wife to……”
Beth interrupted “I certainly did my husband” she said proudly.

Removing the smile from her face , Beth looked sternly at John.
“I trust I will find our house as I left it John Dillon ?” she asked ,  knowing John’s aversion to housekeeping.
John immediately looked guilty.
“You know I’m not one for cleaning house  Beth “ he confessed.
Beth scowled at him “ John Dillon !” she pointed an accusing finger at him “If the house is a mess you and the Governor will have something in common- a bottom that’s  too sore to sit on!”

Beth surveyed the house with a keen eye while John carried in her bags.
She acknowledged that John had made an honest attempt to keep the house clean , but his lack of expertise in the field plainly showed.
John looked at Beth , awaiting a verdict .
Instead ,  she collapsed in the chair with a sigh.
“It’s been a long trip and I need to rest John. Go pour me a bath…….. and  leave the razor strap on the bed . I’ll deal with you later.” She declared.
“Yes Ma’am.” John gulped.

While  John prepared Beth’s  bath she  undressed in the bedroom 
Wrapped in her bathrobe and carrying a large wooden bath-brush , she  handed it to John.
“You can scrub my back with this husband ……. And be thankful I won’t  be using it on your behind later !”
John sighed with relief.
He recalled how much the bath-brush hurt when Beth had used it on him for keeping them late for an important dinner.

John held Beth’s robe  and she stepped out of it to enter the tub.
The sight of his attractive wife naked , her long flowing red hair spilling down her back , stirred passion in John but he resisted the urge to take Beth in his arms and carry her off to the bedroom.
Instead he was satisfied with massaging her neck and shoulders while  he washed the lily white , soft skin of her back.

When she was finished bathing , Beth stood up.
John handed her a towel to wrap around her .
She glanced  haughtily over at him “ Go to the bedroom ,  take off all your clothes and lie face down on the bed.  I will be there shortly.” She said curtly.
John obeyed , disrobing  and lying , face down on the bed , he waited for Beth.
The minutes seemed like hours as he lay there , occasionally catching a glimpse of the razor strap which lay beside him .
He felt his erection growing beneath him .

Finally Beth quietly entered the room and picked up the strap.
Wrapped in a  towel which barely covered her voluptuous anatomy she stood by the side of the bed , strap in hand .
John looked over at her , his face filled with desire.
Teasingly Beth  looked at her husband and  droppied the towel to the floor.
Then John felt the coldness of the leather on his bare skin as Beth placed it across his bottom.

Raising it high above her head , shed brought it down  forecefully.
There was  a loud crack when it snapped across John’s buttocks.
John flinched and gasped as the strap seemed to sear his flesh leaving a red outline where it had landed.
Beth continued , methodically  painting her husband’s vulnerable bottom a fiery red .
When she was happy with her handiwork she put down the strap and lay beside  John on the bed. 
Contently they lay in each others arms and made love , happy to be reunited again.


The President welcomed Governor Jones into the Oval Office and poured them both a large  brandy.
“Tell me more about how you’ve been able to civilize that wild west state of yours Governor “the President asked.
The two old friends eased themselves into the  plush chairs and lit up their huge cigars. , filling the room with pungent smoke.
The President’s assistant knocked on the door and entered the room.
“Sorry to disturb you Mr. President but the The First Lady and the Governor’s wife have arrived.”
The President sighed “I guess we’ll have to do this over dinner Henry…can’t keep our ladies waiting can we ?” .

The two men stood up when  the   elegantly dressed ladies entered the room noisily.
“We hope you two don’t mind …..but we took the liberty of inviting a guest. 
When ucy told me all about her , I just had to meet her in person “ the First lady said.
Governor Jones’ expensive cigar fell to the floor when Beth Dillon strode confidently into the room.
She  held out her hand to the President.
“Beth Dillon , its a pleasure to meet you Mr President “ she said.
The President beamed “Ah….so you are the famous lady who is bringing civilization to the west of our great country?” he mused.
Beth acknowledged the compliment “Such measures are needed all across our country Mr. President ….but especially in the west.”

“So what have you ladies been chatting about all day?” the President asked.
The first lady smiled mischieviously at Beth.
“Actually , Mrs Dillon and I have had quite a long chat my dear..”
Frowning , she scowled  at the President’s cigar and brandy.
 “You know your not to have those Albert ….put them away at once ….and be assured  I’ll be dealing with that nasty habit of yours later !“
Lucy Jones wagged a finger at her husband.
 “….And that goes for you too Henry Jones !” she echoed. 
Governor Jones gasped and instinctively put a palm to the seat of his trousers .
Beth simply looked on with a satisfied smile.

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Jun 232011

There is a storyline brewing for the Pop Art Spanking project. Stay tuned.   – Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.