Tag: spanking stories

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.


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

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
Tiffany

It never ceases to amaze me – the time and creativity undertaken by readers who decide to participate in the writing contests. I do sincerely hope to have each and every one of them over my knee…my way of showing gratitude. 


Here is another great entry from the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Contest. In this (untitled) story, the boys finally turn the tables on us girls…


– Dana

Robert and Carole had been friends virtually all their life. They had grown up in one of those affluent suburbs of Boston, where their existence as somewhat pampered and much-loved children of wealthy indulgent parents had given them both charmed upbringings. Now both 21 years old, they had just graduated from a Liberal Arts college in New England that was the preserve of well-to-do but not too clever students. At College, they had become inseparable and had decided during their final year to marry, immediately after their graduation. A lavish wedding ceremony had followed, set in the lush gardens of Carole’s parent’s mansion with the groom’s parents paying for a no-expenses spared honeymoon in Europe where the couple were to visit Paris, Vienna, Rome and finally, the South of France, staying in the best hotels throughout.

Clearly they had everything they could desire and Carole certainly knew it. As they travelled from Paris to Vienna and then on to Rome Robert saw a new side of Carole, one he had never encountered before. Carole was simply arrogant, speaking curtly and rudely to the hotel staff they met, however accommodating the staff were. Despite their youth and inexperience, nothing seemed good enough for Carole as she complained of inconsequential issues, the heat and lack of air-conditioning, the food, even the scratchiness of the bed linen. Robert became subdued as he discovered this new side to Carole, a side he had never really seen or experienced before – was his life going to be dominated by this bad-tempered young women?

As they sat under a blue umbrella, which Carole had insisted the waiter put up even though they were in the shade already, in a cafe some 50 metres from by the Trevi Fountain, Robert looked wistfully at many other couples who sat in a care-free manner by the fountain itself, flicking water to each other, laughing and joking. His new wife had already complained about her coffee which was too cold for her liking, ridiculing and insulting the poor waitress in the process. To make matters worse, Carole had rather theatrically poured the coffee onto the carpet requiring the waitress to get down on her hands and knees to clear up the mess as best she could. They now sat in silence as they waited for the replacement drink, the romance and sense of excitement at being at such an atmospheric place passing them by.

Carole became impatient and was about to call the waitress back to demand her coffee when a policeman, who had been sitting at one of the adjoining tables came over to them. He had witnessed the episode and said to Carole and Robert in broken English. “I see you didn’t like the coffee, come with me, I will ensure you will get what you deserve”. Robert and Carole looked at each other and then Carole smiled sweetly at the policeman “Thanks,  this cafe is lousy, it would be great if you could take us to a better place”. “It will be my pleasure” countered the policeman as they left the cafe and followed him around the corner to the building immediately behind.

“You will get the experience of your life” the policeman said as they were ushered through the door. As they entered the building, Robert sensed something was wrong – they were not in a cafe but what appeared to be the front room of a house. The room was sparsely furnished and in the middle stood a lone tall ladder-backed chair. Behind the chair stood the waitress and in her hand, a huge paddle. Carole and Robert looked at each other in atonishment. “What’s this all about” blurted Robert.

The policeman turned to Carole. “In my country, your behaviour is inexcuseable and punishable. Spilling the coffee with intent is criminal damage and you will be locked up in prison overnight and then deported. A report will be sent to the authorities in the US” Carole turned white, she realized immediately her predicament and started to both cry and scream “you can’t do this, you can’t do this, what will my parents think”. Turning to Robert the policeman continued “this is your fault, if you had controlled and disciplined your wife properly, she would not have behaved the way she did. In my country, husbands thrash their wives and I suggest you learn to do this yourself if you wish this matter to go no further”.

Carole, oblivious to the words the plooliceman had just said, continued to cry and scream directing her venom at Robert “do something, do something, get me out of here”. Robert looked at the policeman but instantly knew what he had to do. Approaching the waitress, he held out his hand and said “May I ?” as he took the paddle from her and grabbed hold of his wife with the other. Within a second, Robert was seated on the chair and had roughly pulled his wife over his lap. “What are you doing???” shouted Carole, “something I should have done days ago” as Robert took the hem of her skirt and lifted it up over her waist exposing her bottom. Immediately he started to thrash her.  “Stop it, stop it” shouted Carole as she tried unsuccessfully to wiggle off his lap, his hold around her waist tightening. The policeman looked on approvingly and gestured to her pants as Robert continued to paddle her. Robert stopped and quitely said to Carole “Are you ready to apologise to the waitress”? “No, I am not and just wait until I tell my parents”. With that Robert strengthened his hold and with his free hand pulled down her panties resuming the paddling on her bare bottom.

Robert was like a man possessed; in an instant he knew that this opportunity would be perhaps the only time he would be able to dominate his wife and teach her a lesson. As he thrashed her, his thoughts were on the future and how he wanted his life to be. He didn’t want to have a spoilt, bored wife but one who would enjoy life and everything that it had to offer. He knew that this lesson would teach her that life was about experiencing everything that was offered – even faulty air-conditioning, scratchy bed-lined and cold coffee and as he thrashed her, he willed her spirit to change.

At last he decided she had had enough and stopped. “Are you ready to apologise to the waitress?” he said in a soothing voice as he helped her off his lap. “I’m sorry blubbered Carole, my behaviour was wrong”. Everybody smiled, the lesson had been learnt and perhaps, just perhaps, Robert was going to have a great married life after all.


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com  
 

‘When in Rome, do as you are told to do’

“The Wedding Gift”

Wow…just wow. A fantastic entry from the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Contest. Something about all the gelato talk interspersed with spanking makes it seem even more decadent..


– Dana


Be sure to click ‘Read More’ at the bottom of the visible text to display the full story.

TIZIANA’S ROMAN HURRICANE

Tiziana was excited to be making her visit to Roma, though her husband Massimo had been there several times on business over the past year. But now they were celebrating their honeymoon, having a suite at the Villa Spalletti Trivelli near the famous Fontana di Trevi.

It was a warm spring afternoon and they’d just strolled into the
Gelateria Frigidarium for a smooth, creamy, flavorful Italian ice
cream.  Massimo purchased two coppas of Stracciatella, a vanilla gelato laced with chocolate.

They sat watching the parade of Romani coming and going, friends chatting in an animated fashion, featuring many hand gestures which are understandable in any language.  Lovers ambled along, hand in hand and Tiziana winked at Massimo.

They made their way to the famous Trevi Fountain and Massimo fished some coins out of his pocket.  Tiziana stood with her back to the fountain, launching the first one with her right hand and tossing it over her left shoulder.  Two coins are said to lead to a new romance and three will bring marriage or divorce.  The second Euro coin landed elegantly in the ornate fountain and Tiziana again winked at Massimo.

He began to blush, knowing what was on the horizon.

As they made their way back to the hotel, a gentle rain began to fall.  Caught off-guard and not having an umbrella, Massimo handed a street vendor (known locally as “vu compra’s” since they routinely ask people if they want to buy:  “vu compra” in their stilted immigrant Italian) a ten Euro bill in exchange for a bright ombrello blu.  He opened the umbrella and shielded his darling Tizi from the gentle rain.

After dodging a few taxis and bicyclists they arrived back at the Villa Spalletti.  Massimo shook off the rain from the umbrella and closed it as they found their way to the elevator.  Tiziana had gotten the room key from the desk clerk.

Up on the fourth floor, they opened the elevator gate and opened the door leading to the hallway.  Massimo closed the elevator and slowly joined his beloved Tiziana down the hall to their suite. “Slowly” because Massimo was certain as to what fate awaited before their dinner at the well-known Mirabelle restaurant on the Via di Porta Pinciana.

Yes, the tossing of the coins into the fountain sealed Massimo’s fate.   Tiziana had promised him a “Sculacciata” as they came by train from Firenze earlier that day.

She sat on the edge of the spacious “letto matrimoniale,” a king sized bed with an ornate only-in-Rome headboard with a carving of the Fontana di Trevi.  After a moment she directed Massimo to remove his shoes, shirt and slacks.  “You know the protocol!” she said in a quiet, but firm voice.

And he did as ordered, hands now behind his back.  “Go stand in the corner so I can admire the sight of your lovely ‘culo’.” Tiziana commanded.

His American-styled Jockey briefs she’d purchased on her recent trip to New York were tight on his nether cheeks.  His muscular bottom was more delicious to Tiziana than the Stracciatella gelato she’d enjoyed an hour earlier.

“Massimo dear,” she sang out, “Per favore, vieni qui.”  And so he stood to he side, his eyes gazing on to her bare legs.  She’d pulled her skirt up and he soon was draped over her lap.

She enjoyed running her hand over the smooth cotton briefs which would soon be “half mast” on her dearly beloved.  “You know this is something we have to do to keep our marriage strong, Massimo.” Tiziana explained.

“Si, carissima.” he replied.

And soon there was more rain in the forecast.  Now Tiziana’s hand showered his quivering bottom with a storm of spanks.  Every so often, the downpour would calm down, as she’d soothingly massage his now reddened cheeks.  But then another storm would blow in and poor Massimo was kicking his legs in the air, trying to find shelter in the downpour.

Tiziana lifted her right leg over both of his, pinning him more
closely to her lap.  Now his scant protection was removed, as she lowered his underpants.  “It’s time to get down to business, dear.” she cooed lovingly.

And her hand continued to smack poor Massimo’s naked bottom.

She paused and ordered him back to the corner to, once again, admire her handiwork.

But then she opened her purse and produced a hairbrush, a family heirloom, as it turns out.  “My mother used this on me and my sisters,” Tiziana told Massimo.  “Now I’m going to introduce you to this.”

Massimo was told to once again “assume the position” and he fell onto her lap, as she draped her left arm over his back and grabbed the hairbrush with her right…and now a storm of hurricane intensity was thundering down on poor Massimo, the waves of the force of the spanking vibrating across his bottom like waves on a lake.   He tried to kick his legs, but to no avail.

“You know, dear, this is for both our benefits.” Tiziana intoned.
“It will make our marriage all that much stronger.”

“Si, amore mio.” he managed to reply.

And finally the storm made its way through Room 402 at Villa
Spalletti.  Tiziana gently pulled up Massimo’s “mutandine” and
gently massaged his bottom, which was now showing the effects of both thunder and lightning.

“Va bene,” she said.  “Let’s go have dinner…you never know what’s for dessert!”

DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Readers,
Here is another excellent F/M spanking story from the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Writing Contest. 
‘Love in Rome’ is the tale of a newly married man who needs a little help mending his former ways. Enjoy!
(As always, the asterisks are my edits – for saucy language.) 


– Dana

CHAPTER 2

Sonia giggled with excitement as she opened the folder she had
brought with her and pulled out some papers.
Kate immediately recognized the documents as similar to those she
had seen when planning classes at school such as lesson plans,
report cards, etc.
When she looked at them more closely she began to understand Sonia’s
plan for the first time.
Sonia had designed a school for husbands with she and Kate as the
teachers and Lou and Brendan as the pupils!
She loved it.

The pair poured over the documents enthusiastically as they downed
their coffee and muffins making changes and exchanging ideas.
After about an hour they both sat back and looked at each other in
satisfaction.
“This will work ” Kate declared.

There were still a few weeks of summer holidays left so Sonia and
Kate met daily to refine and implement their plan,
Lou had built a large room in their basement some time ago for Kate
to use as an office but as usual it was left unfinished.
The pair decided this would be the ideal location for their “Husband
School” and went about setting it up as a classroom.
Even when the two men visited the basement when the couples got
together they did not even notice the changes.
Soon everything was ready and only the final and toughest task
remained – breaking the news of their plan to Lou and
Brendan.

CHAPTER 3

“Don’t forget we’re going to Kate and Lou’s place for lunch today
Bren ” Sonia said as she handed her husband a plate of bacon and
eggs.
Brendan took the plate and placed a hand on his wife’s curvy
derriere, slid it up under her short housecoat and squeezed her
right buttock.
“I’d like to have a large portion of this for dessert ” he whispered
in her ear as she let out a squeal.
“Bren! Stop that at once!” she said firmly as she removed his hand.

Brendan chuckled and planted a kiss on Sonia’s full lips.
“I love it when you’re strict with me honey ” he whispered.
Sonia’s face lit up on hearing the words but she said nothing.

Meanwhile Lou and Kate were in the middle of a heated argument.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before I made plans to play ball
with the guys Kate? ” Lou yelled.
Kate’s face flushed red.
“Because you never listen anyway Lou!” she screamed back.
Lou picked up a dishtowel and threw it angrily to the floor.
“Dammit” he scowled as he began to pace.
He was stopped in his tracks when his right ear lob was pinched
between Kate’s thumb and forefinger.
“OW!” he yelled as Kate pulled roughly on his ear lowering his head
to her eye level.
“Are you ready to talk politely now?” she asked as she tightened her
grip.
“YEOW….OUCH….YEAH…YEAH…..STOPPIT ” he howled.
Kate released her grip.
“I’m going to get some groceries.
I suggest you call your friends and tell them you can’t go to the
game.” She said firmly as she left Lou to nurse his sore ear.

CHAPTER 4

The two couples always got along well together so the BBQ Lunch was
a very enjoyable affair.
After eating it was time for the ladies o launch their plan.
As their men sprawled in front of the television nursing their beers
Kate and Sonia went into their newly completed classroom and locked
the door.

They busily set the scene and prepared the room before changing into
more appropriate attire.
Shorts, tank tops and sandals where replaced with low cut shirts,
knee high tight skirts and heels.
For complete authenticity the pair had gone lingerie shopping the
day before and underneath their outfits they wore silk underwear,
garter belts and stockings.
To finish they tied their hair up and donned glasses to complete
the “Teacher” look.
Satisfied with the room and their appearance Kate and Sonia hugged
and took a deep breath as they called out for their husbands to join
them.

As expected their menfolk took a while to respond, finally leaving
the comfort of their seats on the 3rd and loudest command.
It did not occur to them why their wives were beckoning them so
seriously to an unfinished room but it soon became clear when they
casually opened the door.

Kate and Sonia stood behind a large antique desk at the front of the
authentic looking classroom looking very stern as the men entered.
Two smaller desks with modest wooden chairs sat together in front of
the large desk.
Behind the large desk was a large blackboard on a pedestal and
beside it a large wooden cupboard.
Adorning the walls around the room were various posters and charts
showing the lessons to be taught and progress made.

Brendan and Lou were speechless as they eyed their wives and
surveyed the room.
Finally Sonia broke the silence and began to explain the plan to the
men.
“Please be seated at your desks gentlemen, ” she said gesturing them
to the two desks in the middle of the room.
Still surveying their surroundings, without a word Lou and Brendan
walked slowly forward and sat down at their desks as instructed.
It was only then that the two men opened their mouths to speak but
were quickly silenced by their wives who put fingers to their mouths
in unison.
“When you are in this room you will speak only when spoken to or
given permission to speak.
Is that understood?” Kate announced in a deep, firm voice.
“I said is that understood?” she repeated.
The two men were startled and mumbled back ” Yes”.
Kate raised an eyebrow and took a step toward her students.
“Yes…. what …gentlemen?” she said.
“Oh…yes Ma’am” Lou and Brendan chirped back.

Without further delay Sonia stepped forward to explain the plan.
`Husband’ school would be held every Saturday from 9am until 3pm.
Subjects included were courtesy, consideration, honesty, housework &
chores, communication, etc.
She also emphasized that they would work on correcting specific
issues and faults.
There would be homework assigned and a weekly report card issued.

The men were surprised to hear that there was even a school uniform
consisting of a plain white T-shirt and shorts.
Kate held up their uniforms to show them.
The shorts were basically a pair of tight spandex material underwear.
At this point Lou courageously put up a hand.
“Yes Lou?” Kate said giving him permission to speak.
“Well….its underwear…. why do we have to wear that?” he asked.
Kate tried to hide a smile as she glanced over at Sonia.
“Sonia was just getting to that” she answered.

Sonia took a breath and continued.
“As you can see gentlemen this institution has quite a few rules and
they must be observed.
Experience tells us that students will on occasion disobey or break
these rules so to discourage this there must be consequences.
Sonia paused and nodded to Kate who opened the doors of the large
cupboard.
Inside hung a number of long canes with curved handles, wooden
paddles and leather straps.
Lou and Brendan looked at each other and swallowed hard.

“The school will employ corporal punishment gentlemen.
The implement used and number of strokes will depend on the offence.
All punishments will be on the buttocks in front of the class.
This is the reason for the tight shorts as a uniform as it will save
time in having to remove clothing and will make the punishment more
effective and lasting.
Do you have any questions gentlemen?” Sonia concluded.

Brendan and Lou were still in a state of shock as they tried to take
in what had just occurred and were speechless.
“In that case our first lesson will commence immediately gentlemen.
Please change into your uniforms- and do not dither” Kate announced
ominously.
Sonia and Kate could not conceal their pride or amusement as they
watched their strong husbands shuck off their jeans and change into
their “uniforms”.
“Good choice ” Sonia whispered to Kate as they studied how good
their mans’ butts looked in the tight white shorts.

CHAPTER 5

Lou and Brendan slid behind their desks as Kate handed them both a
piece of paper.
“We’ll start by both of you listing your 10 worst faults – you have
5 minutes ” she said.
The husbands scratched their heads and chewed the ends of their
pencils as they pondered the exercise and occasionally jotted things
down.
“Pencils down!” Kate ordered at the end of 5 minutes and strode
behind her students to look at their answers.
Brendan had managed to list 4 faults and Lou only 3.

“Let’s start with you Brendan.
Sonia, show him your list” Kate said.
Sonia started writing a list of Brendan’s faults on the blackboard
until it was full.
She picked up Brendan’s list and studied it before crumpling the
paper and throwing it in the wastebasket.
“I don’t believe you’re taking this seriously Brendan.
Come here!” she ordered turning around to open the cupboard.
She pulled out a long thin cane and began swishing it menacingly.
“Six of the best.
Bend over and touch your toes” she ordered.
Brendan started to mouth something but stopped when Sonia barked out
“Bend over this minute or I’ll double the dose!”

Brendan assumed the position and felt the material of his shorts
tighten against his backside as he stretched down to touch his toes.
Lou looked on with his jaws agape as Sonia stood beside her husband
and lined up the cane squarely across her target.
She raised her arm and with an expert flick of the wrist lashed the
cane against his friend’s scantily clad rear.
Brendan yelped and straightened up clutching his seat.
“Jeez that hurt!” he complained.
Sonia glared at him impatiently.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to stand up.
Now bend over and remain bent over.
I will start over.”

Brendan bent over again and this time Sonia took a step back for
more power.
She delivered 3 hard strokes in rapid succession producing a loud
trio of
“OW” s from her husband.
Sonia paused to let the sting set in and stepped back to deliver a
single, harder stroke.
Brendan grunted and was clearly having trouble staying in position
as he awaited the final 2 strokes.
But his wife was in no rush.

He could feel the stinging intensify inside his shorts as time
passed.
Sonia lined up the cane teasingly before delivering the final two
and hardest strokes.
Brendan howled and bucked forward as he jumped to his feet clutching
his rear with both hands.
Sonia looked at him ” Sit down and write down those faults 10 times.
You’d better have them memorized by next week mister!” she seethed.
Brendan hobbled to his seat and sat down.
He shot back up as his tender rear touched the hard stool.
“Sit down I said or I’ll give you another six!” Sonia scolded.
Brendan grimaced as he eased himself onto his seat and began writing.

Lou looked up at Kate as she examined his list.
She slowly tore it into pieces as he looked on.
“Hardly worthwhile reading is it Lou?'” she said.
“No Ma’am” he replied meekly.
Lou squirmed on his seat as he watched Kate list his 10 faults on
the blackboard beside Brendan’s.
Kate finished and turned around to face Lou.
“Get up here and face the board.” She yelled.
Sonia chuckled to herself as she watched this strong, tough man
scramble to his feet and scurry to the board.
“Study them hard Lou” Kate said as she reached for a thick leather
strap in the cupboard.

She stepped behind Lou and placing a hand in the waistband of his
shorts roughly yanked them down to his knees to reveal his muscular
buttocks and thighs.
Brendan gasped at the sight before him.
“Bend over the desk” Kate ordered curtly.
Lou leaned over the desk and stuck out his bare butt.
“Read them out – one at a time ” Kate ordered as she folded the
strap to her liking.

Lou read out the first fault and was rewarded with a resounding
whack of the strap across his bare backside.
“AAAAW” he moaned as he bucked forward.
“Now the next one” Kate said calmly.
Lou read each one of the remaining faults and received a hefty whack
of the strap after each one.
At the end the thick red outlines of the strap were was painted
on his behind .
“Now sit down and start writing ” Kate ordered.
Lou grimaced as he restored his shorts and moaned as he sat down.

Both husbands squirmed uncomfortably until their task was complete.
“That concludes the first lesson gentlemen.
You may remove your uniforms” Sonia announced.
Painfully Lou and Brandon shuffled to the corner where their clothes
hung and eased themselves out of their uniforms.

The women admired their husbands’ nakedness lustily.
Brendan’s backside was red and striped from the cane and Lou’s still
a blazing red from the strap.
As the men reached for their clothes two female hands stopped them.
Brendan and Lou turned around and their faces lit up at the sight
before them.

Sonia and Kate had removed their dresses and stood seductively
before them wearing only black silk panties, garter belt, stockings
and heels.
They each melted into the arms of their naked husbands and kissed
them passionately.
Their men needed no encouragement.
Lou picked up Kate and sat her on top of the antique desk while
Sonia leapt into Brendan’s arms and wrapped her legs around his
waist.
The classroom was soon filled with groans and squeals of ecstasy as
the two couples made passionate love in the “classroom”

CHAPTER 6

“I’d say that went rather well – cheers ” Sonia chirped as she
clinked her wineglass against Kate’s.
“I’ll drink to that!” Kate chimed.
It was day 2 since the inaugural lesson of their “Husband School”
and the two teachers were getting together to compare notes.
Kate reported that Lou’s attitude had changed almost immediately.
He still spent a lot of time watching and playing sports but had
started to help out with the housework and his language and demeanor
were more polite.
Sonia had a similar tale to tell and Brendan was even coming home
from work earlier and calling her during the day.

Another thing the wives agreed on was that their husbands were very
aware that they were keeping score and a report card would be issued
at Saturday’s upcoming lesson.
Both Lou and Brendan were consulting the list of faults they had
copied down on a daily basis to prepare for Saturday’s test.

The ladies also happily reported that their husbands were still
feeling the effects of the punishment they received at school.
“Lou still has some marks on his backside and the tops of his thighs
so he is skipping his visits to the gym for now in case someone
spots them in the shower!” Kate revealed.
Sonia laughed.
“Brendan still has the stripes from the caning ” she added proudly.
“He had to spend all day yesterday at a meeting and blamed his
constant squirming on a bad back! If only they knew his wife had
caned his backside!

Sonia topped up their glasses with more wine as they started to work
on the next lesson.