More “true” case histories from that chronicler of chastisement, that purveyor of punitive prose, the late great Will Henry.
CHAPTER V. SPANKING AND THE ADULT WOMAN
Bill and Judy are a young couple living in Connecticut. He is 29 and Judy is 27. Judy is a pretty blonde who is completely under her husband’s domination. When she married him three years ago, Judy was well aware of the fact that he was a spanking fan. In fact, she had been thoroughly initiated while they were going steady and kept well spanked during their engagement period. Since their marriage, Judy has been punished frequently and usually with ceremonies designed to enhance the aesthetic effect. Judy is quite well adjusted to the idea, and in fact is rather proud of her “old fashioned” husband.
A year ago, Judy’s older sister Shirley asked if she could board with them, at least temporarily. Shirley at that time was separated from her husband and in the process of getting a divorce from him. Five years older than Judy, Shirley is a tall, slim blonde with an excellent figure. Judy knew that her husband would not be enthusiastic about having Shirley stay with them, mainly because it would interrupt their frequent spanking sessions. In fact, he flatly vetoed the idea when it was first presented to him. Judy talked the problem over with her sister, candidly explaining what the difficulty was. After some discussion, Judy suggested that the problem could probably be overcome if Shirley agreed to submit to the same kind of discipline. At first Shirley violently resisted the idea, but when she saw there was no other course, finally assented largely because she was in severe financial difficulties and needed a place to stay.
Bill was quite astonished when Judy described the idea to him. In fact, knowing that Shirley had always been the conventional and conservative type, he was a little suspicious that she would really go along with the idea when the chips were down. He therefore told Judy that her sister would have to be initiated before moving in with them to show her good faith. Knowing that she would have to get it over with sooner or later, Shirley reluctantly agreed to submit. An evening was set aside for the initiation and, although Judy couldn’t supply her with all the ideas her husband might have in mind, she did give Shirley a pretty good idea of what she might expect.
On the evening of the initiation, Shirley arrived on time, looking a little pale and quite nervous as she greeted her hosts. As Judy had suggested, she wore a white blouse, navy blue skirt hemmed above her knees, dark nylons and high heels. Although she is not the type, it was obvious that she had omitted wearing a girdle. Bill took charge at once, and demanded that she tell them explicitly why she was there. Shirley grew red in the face as she stammered out the purpose of her visit. Bill abruptly ordered her to go and stand in the corner. Shirley looked quite surprised, and then fled to one corner of the room where she stood with her blushing face to the wall.
While Shirley, anxious and embarrassed, waited in the corner, Bill turned on the television set for one of his and Judy’s favorite shows. It was a half hour program and Shirley was made to stay in the corner throughout. Occasionally, she would look over her shoulder, but for the most part she kept her face against the wall. She had not expected this juvenile type treatment, and felt thoroughly humiliated as she stood there like a naughty child instead of a woman of thirty-two.
When the program was over, Bill flipped off the set and placed a chair in the middle of the room. Shirley was ordered to turn around and hoist her skirt to the waist. Her face as red as a beet, she slowly did so. Shamefaced and hanging her head, she pulled the hem of the skirt up to reveal long lithe legs in black nylons, stocking tops, milk white bare thighs and finally trim pink panties and white garter belt. “Judy had told me I could expect this, so I wasn’t surprised,” Shirley related later. “But naturally I had never exposed myself like that to a man, and I can’t describe how embarrassed I was. I felt utterly brazen as I obeyed his instructions to walk to him, keeping my panties on view the whole time!”
As his longlegged sister-in-law reluctantly walked over to him, Bill seated himself in the chair. As soon as she got to him, he swung her face down over his knees with a practiced motion that brought a surprised gasp from Shirley. Before she hardly realized it had happened, she was staring down at the floor and her panty-clad bottom was sticking up higher than the rest of her while her long legs dangled out somewhat awkwardly. After a long moment, he began working the panties down off her hips. Shirley was expecting this, but still gasped out a plea to be spared this indignity as she felt his fingers being inserted into the waistband of her panties.
In his most deliberate manner, he worked the panties down to expose the white, quivering flesh of her well rounded buttocks. Shirley kept her eyes tightly shut as she felt the draft of cool air upon her upturned bottom. Seeing her thirty-two-year-old sister’s utter mortification at the preparations, Judy couldn’t suppress a knowing smile. Gazing appreciatively at the full curved and trembling mounds, white thighs and long, stocking legs, Bill deliberately let his anxious victim wait for the spanking to begin. “I thought I was going to die with shame,” Shirley recalled afterward. “I couldn’t have imagined a more humiliating position to be in. And Judy, the imp, was standing there looking very smug and pleased about the whole thing!”
Bill began the spanking with very light, almost gentle smacks of his open hand, allowing his hand to remain in place for a few seconds after each spank. At the light, almost caressing, slaps of his hand against her bared nates, Shirley writhed and moaned with humiliation. During the next few minutes, he allowed his hand to become well acquainted with the rounded contours of Shirley’s bottom. As her pretty seat turned pink and began to tingle in various places, Shirley couldn’t avoid squirming about on his lap and the pointed toes of her pumps began to bounce up and down against the rug. “It was a typical spanking,” Judy later reported. “He always starts out slowly and uses nothing but his hand, as he definitely prefers the personal contact of flesh on flesh. Seeing how embarrassed Shirley was at being manhandled, so to speak, I recalled some of my early experiences when I felt the palm on the bare for the first time.”
Bill paused for a moment to rest his arm and to give her a chance to cool off a little. Before Shirley completely caught her breath, however, he commenced again. This time the spanks were harder and noisier, and there was not much interval between them. As the spanks began to descend on her bottom, Shirley yelped and began to buck up and squirm while her long legs started jerking back and forth. “It stung and smarted something awful, and of course each spank stung more than the previous one,” Shirley discussed her feelings later. “Despite my agitation, I was keenly aware of what a sight I was making of myself squirming and kicking my legs like that, but I couldn’t hold back.”
By this time, Shirley’s gluteals and upper thighs were a solid shade of scarlet and the tears were flowing. As he paused again, she pleaded with him to stop. However, as far as he was concerned, she was now ready for the coup de grace: several solid spanks administered alternately to each cheek. Shirley screamed as the first such solid smack landed on her right buttock with a crack like a pistol shot. With each succeeding spank, she shrieked and kicked her long legs furiously, gasping and sobbing with pain. Bill counted the spanks aloud in a voice that was rendered inaudible by Shirley’s outcries.
Finally, it was over and a tearful and sore-bottomed Shirley was told that she had passed with flying colors. The next week she moved in with them with the understanding that she would take a spanking whenever her brother-in-law deemed it necessary. In the past year, Shirley has adjusted to a life of discipline and rather frequent spankings. “At my age, that has been very difficult to do,” Shirley says. “I think I’m fairly used to the idea now, but I still get embarrassed to death. For me, the hardest thing is holding my skirt up over my panties when I go to him for a spanking. For some reason, that is even more humiliating than having my bottom bared when I’m over his knee, although that is bad enough. Sometimes, I wonder when my brother-in-law will decide that I’m too old to spank.”
The experiences of Shirley depicted in the previous report illustrate a problem that is arising with the growing acceptance of spanking as a form of discipline, and that is the question of when is a woman too old to be spanked. Today, many girls who have been spanked in their teens are still living at home in their twenties. Others, such as Shirley, may move into homes where spanking is an accepted practice for adults as well as youngsters. As in Shirley’s case, the rapidly rising divorce rate is a frequent cause of such arrangements. A girl who left home to get married may return home after her divorce, and her parents will thereby be faced with the question of whether she should be disciplined the same as her younger sisters. Or a young divorcee may move in with an older sister, who either gets spankings or administers them to her daughters. Or a matron in her forties who gets divorced may move in with a daughter and discipline minded son-in-law.
Pauline S. is a pretty divorcee of twenty-two. In the following report, she describes her introduction to spanking following her divorce:
“If I had had my bottom blistered a few times either by my husband, or my parents before that, I probably wouldn’t have made such a mess of things. However, that is being taken care of now, although now it is much more embarrassing to be punished like a juvenile. Following my divorce, I began boarding with Margaret T, a schoolteacher who is in her late thirties. She is a widow with one daughter, Nan, who is seventeen.
“Before I moved in with her, I realized that Margaret was the domineering type, but I felt I needed a steadying influence. Right from the first, she bossed me around as if I were also her daughter. She was more severe with Nan and, though she is a big girl, I was quite astonished to learn that Nan was still subject to strictly schoolgirl type punishments. Poor Nan! Having to bring the ruler to her mother, and stand there with her hands out, palms upward, while her mother smacked with the ruler and lectured her. Or having to roll her stockings down to her ankles and stand there while her mother smacked the backs of her calves with a ruler until they were an embarrassing red.
These and other punishments were administered right in front of me just as if Nan were a child rather than a pretty teenager. Nan had apparently been well trained, as I never once heard her object to this type of discipline. I also soon learned that Nan was occasionally escorted to her mother’s bedroom for an old fashioned hairbrush spanking. Although these were administered with the door closed, the sounds that came through the door convinced me that Margaret knew how to handle the hairbrush. When I saw how gingerly Nan sat down after one of these sessions, I had to sympathize with her although she never got any sympathy from her mother.
“Even though I sympathized with Nan for being under such a strict regimen, I realized that if I had had this type of discipline at her age, it would probably have done me a lot of good in the long run. Margaret realized the same thing after I had been living there for several weeks, and she had had an opportunity to observe some of my escapades. One time when I had gotten in very late the previous evening, she took me aside for a heart-to-heart talk. I had to admit that what she said made a great deal of sense, and told her so. I found myself blushing when she concluded the discussion by telling me that she hoped it wouldn’t be necessary for her to use the same type of discipline on me as she did on Nan!
“While the discussion had its effect on me, I more or less continued my old ways of keeping late hours, running with a rather wild crowd, drinking and so on. About a week or so later, Margaret called me into her room again. This time she was visibly angry, and I blushed hotly when I saw that hairbrush in her hand. She told me that she had done everything she could to be reasonable with me, but that I hadn’t paid the slightest attention to her. Sheri then said that if I wished to continue staying with her, I would have to take the same discipline as Nan. I told her I realized I needed discipline, but begged her to give me another chance this time. She adamantly refused, telling me that she had overlooked too many things already.
“With that she took me by the arm and started leading me toward the side of the bed. Although I protested that I was much too big for that sort of treatment and begged her for another chance, I didn’t resist. She sat down on the side of the bed and pulled me face down over her lap. I felt utterly ridiculous as she calmly nipped my skirt up in back, but my biggest shock came when I felt her pulling my panties down. At my age I hadn’t expected that and pleaded with her not to shame me like that. Down came the panties just the same, leaving me feeling bare and horribly vulnerable from my garter belt to the tops of my stockings.
“I had no idea what a spanking would feel like, but I found out in a hurry! Oh, did that hairbrush ever sting and smart on my bare and tender bottom! I must admit that I was a complete sissy about the whole thing, and from the very first just begged Margaret to spare me. She didn’t, of course, and that hairbrush kept landing all over my bare bottom and upper thighs. As she warmed me up, I just had to yelp and cry out and squirm around furiously on her lap. Knowing that Nan was present in the house and could undoubtedly hear me carrying on naturally made it much more embarrassing.
“That spanking seemed to go on and on, and I began to think that she was never going to stop. Kicking my legs and wriggling shamelessly around on her lap, I sobbed and begged her to stop, promising to do anything she said. She finally set the hairbrush aside and proceeded to deliver a five minute lecture while I lay there with my burning bottom completely bare. The point of the lecture was that this was just a sample of the discipline I could expect from her if I didn’t straighten up. Tearfully, I admitted I deserved it and promised to behave.
“We had a long talk afterward while my bottom was cooling off. She told me that, if I wished to stay with her, I would have to follow the same rules as Nan did, including the same curfews, and would receive the same punishments. I tried to get her to be more liberal because of my age but she refused. I also tried to get her to spare me those schoolgirl-type sessions with the ruler that Nan had to endure, but she replied that she would decide what discipline would be best for me.
“That evening I had the embarrassment of having to appear before Nan and her mother at dinner with my seat still considerably sensitive from the spanking. I felt myself blushing hotly as Nan watched silently, but with obvious interest, as I gingerly eased myself into my chair. She carefully refrained from saying anything although it was obvious that she was quite bemused.
“Nan had even more reason to be amused a couple of evenings later when I was ordered to bring the ruler to her mother. I blushed scarlet as I followed Margaret’s instructions to roll my stockings down to my ankles. While Nan watched with an amused smirk on her face, Margaret used that ruler on the backs of my calves until they were a stinging red and there were tears of shame in my eyes.
“In the past year, I have adjusted to the idea of being disciplined when I deserve it although of course it is extremely embarrassing for me. I still have to follow the same rules and receive the same punishments as Nan does, and she and I are rather close although she can’t help teasing me about my juvenile status.”
To those concerned with the question of what the maximum age for a spanking might be, the following report should be of interest: “When I was first married, my wife’s mother gave me her old fashioned wooden hairbrush and told me to use it often and hard to obtain best results. I have taken her advice and with good results. We have been married over three years now, and spankings are still a regular thing in our home. Although Beth is now 24, she agrees that spanking is the way to keep her in line.
“On Saturday evenings, I always make a point of taking her out to dinner. Although we go to a nice restaurant and dress up for the occasion, Beth wears a garter belt instead of a girdle under her tight fitting skirt. As she is the slightly buxom type, she is delightfully self-conscious since she is very much aware that the absence of a girdle is perfectly obvious to anyone who looks. Since I also require her to wear quite short skirts, she is the object of many appreciative glances. She is not the show-off type and often blushes delightfully when she become aware of masculine attention.
“When we go home afterward, I retire to the study while she fixes me a drink. Knowing what will soon be in store for her, she is quite red-faced as she serves me the drink. When I am ready, I order her to bring the hairbrush to me. She obeys without question. I sit in the middle of the room in a straight backed chair. Still holding the hairbrush, she goes across my knees.
“I then prepare her for the discipline. First, I slowly raise her skirt and slip to the waist, revealing shapely, stockinged legs, plump white thighs and rotund, panty-clad bottom. Slowly I peel the panties down to around the knees, exposing the trembling 40-inch mounds. Her garter belt and stockings are left in place. After a long pause while I enjoy the scenery, I call for the hairbrush. With a resigned sigh, she surrenders it to me. I pause once more before beginning.
“I believe in starting out slowly and lightly. I began at the top of her right stocking, work my way up and then down the other side to her left stocking top. Gradually the entire area goes from pink to scarlet red. After ten or more spanks, Beth is crying like a baby but I do not let that deter me. As the spanking progresses, she kicks her legs furiously and wriggles like a worm. But she is helpless to escape and simply has to take it until I decide that she has had enough. I have never counted the spanks, but simply smack until the spanking surfaces are a vivid shade of red. Needless to say, she is pleading with me to stop before I ever do.
“As I mentioned earlier, it was Beth’s mother who originally suggested the idea to me. During the three years we have been married, my mother-in-law has been kept aware of our spanking activities. When she happened to be visiting us on a couple of occasions, I permitted her to witness Beth’s Saturday evening workouts. Beth’s embarrassment was considerably augmented by her mother’s highly favorable comments about the way I disciplined her daughter. After the spankings, her mother would often recount various spankings episodes that had occurred when Beth was in high school, and Beth would be pretty red-faced throughout the discussion.
“About six months ago we learned that Beth’s mother was in the process of getting a divorce, which came as no surprise to us. We were a little surprised, however, when she asked us if she could stay with us at least until she got her own place. I was quite opposed to the idea until a sudden thought occurred to me. Since my mother-in-law was so much in favor of spanking as a way of keeping females in line, it might be amusing to see how she would react to getting a dose of her own medicine! At this point, I should mention that Beth’s mother, even at 43, is a youthful looking platinum blonde whose figure is only slightly more full than her daughter’s.
“When I first mentioned the idea to Beth, she was a little shocked. However, the more she thought about it, the more she liked it. After all, it was her mother who was responsible for her Saturday evening workouts, and it was also her mother who had used that same hairbrush on her so many times before our marriage. When I broke the news to her mother, there was a flood of protest as one could expect. While I remained firm and Beth sat there smirking and thoroughly enjoying the whole thing, her mother dreamed up more arguments than a Philadelphia lawyer to try to talk me out of it. When she realized she couldn’t talk me out of it, she flounced out in a huff.
“However, she was back in a few days, looking very contrite. Blushing warmly, she told me that she had thought it over, and had decided to go through with it. I assumed that financial difficulties were the real reason behind the decision, but I didn’t press for an explanation. Needless to say, Beth and I were delighted by her mother’s capitulation. A few days later, her mother moved in with us. The following morning when I left for work, I told Beth that I wanted her mother appropriately attired for discipline when I came home that evening. She smiled and nodded that she understood what I meant.
“When I arrived home that evening, Beth was all smiles as she greeted me at the door. After I had been seated and served my usual drink, Beth cheerfully called for her mother to come out. Scarlet with embarrassment, she made her entrance. She wore a white blouse and a snugfitting navy blue skirt that had just been hemmed up to end a good four inches above her knees, together with black stockings that enhanced her full but shapely legs. It was obvious that she wore no girdle. As an appropriately juvenile gesture, Beth had added a large red ribbon that stood out vividly against her blonde hair.
“She was delightfully self-conscious in this outfit, and kept her eyes lowered as I congratulated Beth on the way she had handled this assignment. Beth was quite amused by her mother’s embarrassment, and invited her to sit down. As she shamefacedly did so, her short skirt hiked up to reveal black stocking tops and a glimpse of plump bare white thigh and supporters. Beth, it seems, had required her mother to wear stockings that were shorter than average, which made it impossible for her to retain her modesty while seated. Between my interested glances and Beth’s cutting comments, her mother had rather a hard time of it.
“I waited until after dinner before calling for her to bring me the hairbrush. Even at her age, she blushed like a schoolgirl as she apprehensively brought it to me. As I do with Beth, I told her to hold the brush until I called for it. While Beth watched with great interest, I took her mother over my knees. She proved to be only slightly heavier than Beth. Despite some last minute pleas, up came the navy skirt to reveal plump white thighs emerging from black stockings and a buxom, mature bottom encased in snug white nylon panties.
“I decided to take my time about getting those panties down. As my fingertips grasped the waistband of the panties and I began working them down slowly, she pleaded desperately with me not to do such a thing to her. I could see Beth snickering as her mother’s buttocks were unveiled, and though she generally kept her face averted I could see that her mother was beet red with embarrassment. The panties came down, revealing plump white hips that were well rounded and wide. As I found out, she measures a buxom 42-inches around the hips. As the panties were carefully pulled down below the tops of her stockings, Beth clapped her hands and told her mother good naturedly that she had had this coming for a long time.
“I called for the hairbrush, and it was handed over with an audible moan. I used the same system on her that I use on Beth. I began at her right stocking top and worked up; then worked down the other side to her left stocking top. With the short stockings she had on, this meant that a considerable area of bare thigh as well as her hips was soon pink and tingling. As she hadn’t been spanked in years, she proved even a bigger baby than Beth about taking it. From the first she howled and kicked her legs, and in no time there were tears and frantic pleas to be spared.
“I took my time about it, and between spanks thoroughly enjoyed the show she put on with wildly squirming hips and kicking legs. I could see that Beth was thoroughly appreciating seeing her mother on the receiving end for once, and she never once suggested that I ease up on her. While her mother gasped and sobbed and continued her frantic wriggles, I applied the hairbrush until the entire spanking area was a vivid red and I knew she would have trouble sitting for some little time. Before I released her, I told her to keep on the same outfit for the rest of the evening.
“She had a good cry afterward in her room. She was still sniffling a little when she came out a half hour or so later. Her platinum hair was in disarray, her eyes were red, her make-up ruined, her skirt mussed and her stockings bagging around the knees. She looked more like a well spanked teener than a woman of forty-three. She self-consciously eased herself into a chair, tugging uselessly at the short skirt that rode up so revealingly. Despite her discomfort and embarrassment, she was quite a good sport about it and reminisced about the last spanking she had had back in her high school days.
“Since that time, my mother-in-law has joined my wife as a regular recipient of spankings. While I have continued the Saturday evening routine with Beth, I have set aside Wednesday evenings for my mother-in-law’s workouts. As in the case of her first spanking, she must dress in appropriate attire for the occasion. There have been occasions when I spanked them both during the same evening. My mother-in-law has adjusted to the idea of being disciplined, and I rarely hear any complaints from her.”
Beth’s mother is certainly not the only woman over forty who receives spankings. Edna R. is a 46-year-old housewife who has had considerable experience with spanking both as donor and as recipient. A tall (five feet, ten inches) brunette, Edna is meticulous about keeping her girlish figure and is often mistaken for a much younger woman. Here is Edna’s report about her spanking activities:
“I have had many years of experience with spanking both as spanker and spankee. I received spankings at home from my father until I was in my twenties, and my husband took up where he left off. I can still expect a spanking or two a week. I also spank my two daughters, who are now 20 and 18. In addition, I’ve both given and taken paddlings in connection with club initiation stunts. While others may disagree with me, I feel that spanking adds a certain spice to life. It’s intimate and more than a little sexy, but it’s also a very effective form of discipline. I know that I, for one, do not regret any of the experiences I have had, and I am looking forward to more in the future.
“When my husband is at home, I am expected to wear a pretty dress of combination sweater and skirt, nylon hose, high heels and pretty undies. Girdles are forbidden as housewear. I have always worked to keep my figure trim, so I have no objection to dressing this way. The dresses and skirts I wear around the house these days are hemmed to end three-four inches above my knees, which is considerably shorter than I would wear publicly or even if we were expecting guests. The girls kid me quite a bit but I am used to that.
“When my husband decides that I am to be spanked, I am called into his study and the door is closed. Our daughters never witness my spankings, although they may be present in the house when one is administered. The study is far from soundproof and they can easily hear what is going on even with the door closed. They of course have known for a long time that I get spanked, and think nothing of it although they can rarely resist kidding me a little after a session.
“As many times as I have reported to the study for discipline, I still bite my lip and feel weak in the knees. As soon as I have closed the door behind me, I am required to grasp the hem of my skirt or dress and gather it up around my waist both in front and back. I must then walk over to my husband, who is seated on a leather couch. Despite the privacy and my many previous experiences, I still blush furiously and feel thoroughly ashamed as I walk to him with my panties and long stockinged legs on view. I might mention that my husband has adopted the same practice my father used to employ on me, even when I was a big girl in my twenties.
“As I stand in front of him facing him directly, he begins working my panties down off my hips. I still go absolutely scarlet when he completely exposes me this way, and having to hold my own skirts up so that he can see everything makes it twice as embarrassing. He is never in a hurry at this point, and always pauses for a good eyeful while I stand there crimson with shame and feeling completely ridiculous. It’s almost something of a relief when he finally turns me down over his lap, and I feel his forearm clamp down firmly on the small of my back.
“The discipline starts with a hand spanking, followed by the hairbrush. The hand spanking begins slowly and lightly, and is often accompanied by a scolding to make me feel juvenile. He knows how to raise the temperature in my bottom very slowly and evenly. It isn’t long before I am beginning to feel very warm and tingly. In spite of all the experience I have had, I still feel completely childish and deeply embarrassed at having a masculine hand applied to my upturned and completely bare buttocks. The hand spanking continues until my bottom is rosy, and I am blinking back tears and squirming considerably.
“After this warming up, the hairbrushing commences. With the very first spank of the brush, I have to howl and squirm furiously. He applies it briskly and usually alternates from one cheek to the other. As that brush raises the temperature in my bottom very rapidly, the tears come and I find myself crying and carrying on just as I did as a teenager years ago. My husband never stops a spanking until the sight of my thoroughly reddened bottom convinces him that he has gotten his point across.
“Following one of those hairbrush workouts, my bottom is afire. My husband long ago adopted my father’s old rule prohibiting me from rubbing my posterior afterward. I have to stand in the corner, using my hands to keep my skirts up and leaving my panties down so that everything is showing. Standing there while my fire red bottom gradually cools off can be quite a trial, and there are times when I am just simply dying to rub myself back there. My husband usually makes me stand there from ten to fifteen minutes, which is sufficient time to get my tears under control. He then replaces my panties for me, and we kiss and make up.
“Our daughters, Barbara Jane and Darlene, have of course had a spanking upbringing. During their formative years, the spanking sessions were often informal, on-the-spot affairs administered either by their father or myself. However, as the girls got into high school, we added more formality to the sessions. I insisted on this even more than my husband, as I wanted the girls to have the same experiences that I had had at their ages. With their previous background, the girls adjusted well to this change. Naturally, I am sure that the girls would prefer a life free from this punishment, but in a home where their mother gets spanked it’s rather difficult for them to argue that they are too old to be spanked.
“There have been occasions when I have administered a spanking during the day, but my normal procedure is to wait until my husband is home in the evening. The girls’ spankings are also administered in the study, but in their case the door is always kept open. The parent who is handing out the correction sits on the leather couch, while the other stands by to watch and assist. Usually my husband administers the spanking, but this is not always the case.
“The parent who is doing the spanking takes down the panties while the culprit stands in front of the couch. The girls are even embarrassed when I do it, but of course it’s considerably more embarrassing when their father is lowering the panties. As I did when I was her age, Barbara Jane usually cries and often has to be forcibly told to continue holding her skirts up and out of he way as her charms are exposed. Darlene is less demonstrative but frequently blinks back tears and blushes shamefacedly as the brown tuft of hair is exposed.
“The girls’ spankings are the same as the type I receive, that is, a hand warming up followed by a session with the hairbrush. Neither tries to hold back her emotions as her bare buttocks are smack paddled. Barbara Jane howls and kicks her legs back and forth, quickly dissolving in tears as her tender bottom turns red. Darlene isn’t any braver about it and is soon tearful as her plump bottom takes its spanks. Both have been trained to stay in place until the spanking is over, but do they ever carry on, especially in the latter part of the session when the hairbrush is being crisply applied to her already burning bottom.
“After the spanking, the girls receive the same treatment I do. That means standing in the corner with their skirts up and panties at half mast, red bottoms on view while they cool off. They are also forbidden to rub their bottoms, which as I myself know only too well can be quite an ordeal. When both girls have been naughty, I usually spank one while my husband spanks the other at the same time. The girls must then stand in the corner afterwards, looking delightfully cute with their skirts up to reveal four red cheeks.”