Thursday, January 12, 2012

Sara's Dutch Uncle Part I

© Guyspencer 2012
Sara’s Dutch Uncle: Part 1

Walking downtown, the threesome looked like a typical family unit.  The man and woman moved together with the easy familiarity of long-term spouses.   The teen daughter, Sara, looked like a younger version of her curvaceous, auburn-haired mother.  But looks can be deceiving.  Mary and Wilhelm weren’t married, weren’t even lovers.  That’s not to say they didn’t love one other, but they loved the way cherished family members love each other, not as lovers do.

Had you followed closely, you would have heard the girl address Mary as “Mommy” and the man as “Uncle Wilhelm”.  The girl and the lady spoke in a soft southern drawl, but he spoke excellent English with a distinguished Dutch accent.

The term “Dutch uncle” can have two separate meanings.  It could literally mean an uncle who hails from Holland, but it could also mean a stern, non-parental disciplinarian.  As it turned out, Wilhelm filled both of these roles for Sara.

When Sara’s father unexpectedly died nearly 10 years ago, Wilhelm flew from Holland to attend the funeral and to help his brother’s family.  As it turned out, the little toddler Sara instantly took Wilhelm’s heart.  Also, in his own way, Wilhelm found himself taken by his brother’s young widow, Mary.  Wilhelm was a successful artist, who could afford to live wherever he pleased, so he ultimately moved into an artist’s loft in Mary & Sara’s southern USA city.      

The move was actually a huge sacrifice for Wilhelm.  Wilhelm not only gave up his native country; he also had to suppress an important part of himself.  In the 1970’s, gays weren’t welcome in the southern USA.  To live near his niece and sister-in-law, Wilhelm was forced to hide his sexuality.   

As Sara grew up, Mary and Wilhelm spent much time together and became fast friends.  Although they never directly discussed the issue, Mary gradually figured out that Wilhelm wasn’t “the marrying kind”.  He encouraged her to find another man, and she actually dated a few over the years, but none measured up to either her late husband or Wilhelm.  They developed a comfortable, close, relationship, but Wilhelm never spent a night with Mary, not even once.    

Given that he would never be Sara’s father, Wilhelm initially left most of Sara’s parenting and all of her discipline to Mary.  This arrangement worked well until Sara’s early teens, when Mary finally decided that she needed help. 

Sara was basically a loving and obedient child, but she had an impulsive streak that was becoming troublesome as she approached her teens.  Sara’s impulsiveness created regular school discipline problems, and occasionally her mouth seemed to “run away from her” causing her to speak disrespectfully to her mother.  Many times Wilhelm had to almost physically restrain himself from intervening between the mother and daughter, but he continued to resolutely leave all discipline matters to Sara’s only true parent.

That changed shortly after Sara’s 13th birthday when Mary tearfully asked Wilhelm for help; “I’m afraid I’m losing control of her Wilhelm.  I don’t want to lose my daughter”. 

“I don’t think it’s all that bad,” Wilhelm soothed, “but how would you like me to help?” 

“It’s getting so I’m afraid to spank her.” replied Mary.  She’s almost my size now and I can barely control her.  If she ever decided to really defy me, she just might win.  Then I’d lose all control of her.”

“OK, I think I see your point.” Wilhelm said thoughtfully.  “So you’re asking me to carry out Sara’s corporal punishment for you?”

“Yes” Mary said hopefully, “would that be possible?” 

Wilhelm scratched his chin as he considered the proposition.  “Yes, I suppose its possible.” he said with genuine reluctance “But let’s think carefully before we act.  This is serious business.  To keep your parental authority, you should decide when Sara needs spanking, and you should always be the one to tell her so.  I would just be the instrument of her correction.  Would that work?”

“Yes, that would work.”  Mary said excitedly.   

Over coffee, they discussed specifics.  Then they decided to both think about it for a couple days before they finalized their plans.

The next Friday night, they continued their conversation over coffee.  When they had covered all bases, they called Sara and asked her to sit.  Mary made Sara a cup of coffee (with heavy cream and sugar) before carefully explaining the plan to her. 

“But…but,” Sara protested, “If you both spank me, then I’ll get a lot more spankings.” 

Wilhelm spoke up, “No Sara, you’ll get the same number of spankings as before.  Only your mother has the authority to decide on your punishments.  The only difference would be who actually does the spanking.”  

Perhaps Sara thought that she could wrap Wilhelm around her little finger, or perhaps she wished to avoid the escalating tension between her and her mother, but Sara seemed remarkably agreeable to the proposition.  Mary explained the “procedure” that she and Wilhelm had agreed to.  Sara balked at the idea of going bare-bottom over Wilhelm’s lap, but the three ultimately found a procedure agreeable to all.  It involved a loose skirt.


The change in her discipline was sobering to Sara.  Obviously, she knew about her own impulsivity, and was always remorseful after she had yielded to it by doing or saying something stupid.  So the spankings seemed scary but fair.  Basically, she wasn’t overly worried; she knew that her uncle Wilhelm loved her, and she trusted him.  Secretly, she harbored the hope that she could manipulate him into a lesser (or no) punishment.

She tried to be good, she really did!  But a few weeks later the inevitable happened; she blew up at her mother over a stupid trifle. 

It was Sara’s routine to walk the few blocks to Wilhelm’s studio after school.  About 90 minutes later, her mother would pick her up on her way home from work.  Sara and Wilhelm both cherished this time together.  Sara could discuss things with her Uncle that would be uncomfortable or impossible to bring up with her mother.  Thus, Uncle Wilhelm had gradually become Sara confidant, and even her confessor. 

But today would be different.

Wilhelm greeted Sara as usual.  Mary had called, so he knew everything, but he pretended ignorance.  Although she normally wore slacks, he noticed with approval that today’s outfit featured a loose skirt. 

She looked at the floor.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he asked.

Her voice was barely audible; “Uncle Wilhelm, I’m supposed to ask you for a spanking.” she mumbled. 

“That’s why you’re wearing that skirt?” he asked. 

She nodded.

“I’m listening, tell me the whole story.” Wilhelm said gently.

They sat down and discussed the entire incident.  Wilhelm didn’t lecture her, but instead urged her to suggest ways that she could have defused the situation.  It turned out to be a useful discussion.  Wilhelm’s reaction was so mild, that Sara actually hoped that he would let her off.  She tried her very best “little girl look” on him. 

“The look” didn’t have the effect on her Uncle that Sara had intended.  Instead, he took it as his cue to move the discussion to the “penalty phase”.

“Would you like to get your spanking over with now?” he asked.

“Do we really have to?” she said with pleading eyes.  He would have been disappointed if she hadn’t tried, but now Sara was to meet a new side of her Uncle; the implacable disciplinarian.

“Yes Sara, we must” he said firmly.  Your mother says that you have earned a punishment, and I can’t to change that.  Now prepare yourself the way we discussed.”

She tried for one more concession; “Can we do it over my panties?  …just this once?” she whined. 

Wilhelm didn’t bother to answer.  Seeing the firm look in his eyes, she shrugged before finally kicking off her shoes.

She checked his eyes again.  When she saw only icy certainty, her eyes finally leaked a tear or two.  With a darling blush, Sara reached up under her skirt, hooked her thumbs in her panties, and then drew them all the way to the floor before stepping out.  They were tiny and pink.  Standing awkwardly, she held the panties, unsure what to do with them.      

The loose skirt was a concession to Sara’s concern about Wilhelm spanking her bare.  The skirt, flipped up at the last second, would protect much of Sara’s modesty and preserve a bit of her dignity while still allowing Wilhelm full access to her bare bottom.   In return, Sara had promised to always remove her own panties without objection.

Wilhelm told the girl to place her panties on the table.  Pointing to a paint-splattered armless chair, he directed her to move it out to the center of the studio.  “In the future, you will always put that chair right there…understand?”  Standing nervously beside the chair, she nodded obediently.

He took a moment to think about his studio.  The high windows guaranteed privacy, and he had already locked the door.  Previously he had closed all windows to keep the punishment sounds inside.  

With the “moment of truth” imminent, both Wilhelm and Sara were noticeably nervous.  He told himself that this is just a spanking, not brain surgery, so he could do this.  Mary had given him careful instructions.  “She’s a girl, but she’s not fragile.” Mary had said, “It takes a good hard spanking to get through to her.  The worst thing you can do is stop too soon.  She’s a drama queen.  She makes lots of noise at first and you’ll think you’re killing her, but don’t stop until the fight is out of her.  You’ll know when that happens; she gets quiet and limp.  And naturally, her bottom will be bright red.”   

Mary had described three different punishments.  The first, a long-hard hand spanking, would be the most common.  The second added a second session with a hairbrush; the third substituted a belt for the hairbrush.  Wilhelm fervently hoped that third option would remain theoretical only.  He had no wish to use a belt on anyone. 

A look into Sara’s wet eyes reminded Wilhelm to stop delaying the inevitable.  He pulled her into a long hug.  Both hearts thumped wildly.  Finally he took her gently by the shoulders and held her at arms length so he could look her in the eye.  “You know I love you and want what’s best for you right?”  The girl nodded.  “And you know I have to spank you good and hard…right?”  That brought a new gush of tears, but Sara nodded again.  “…And you’ll try not to hate me afterwards?”

Her response was emphatic:  “No way Uncle Wilhelm.  You love me and you’re just giving me the spanking I deserve.”  Then in a small voice she asked “Will I get the hairbrush?”

“No” Wilhelm answered with relief, “Your mother said just my hand this time.”

Wordlessly he guided her into position.  He lifted her hips and urged her higher over his lap so that her bottom was presented high. Her toes could barely touch, so she was forced to balance herself with her hands.  He lifted her skirt high and draped it over.   This simple action bared her bottom from the small of her back to the tops of her bobby socks.  Twin dents formed in her butt cheeks as she clenched.  She sprouted goose pimples from the studio’s cool air.

As a gay male, Wilhelm had a unique perspective to the sight of Sara’s undraped bottom.  A perfect bottom is a perfect bottom, so he looked with frank admiration, but he could do so without guilt from inappropriate sexual arousal.  

“Here we go” Wilhelm said, “Remember that this punishment is to teach you to control your temper and your words.” She nodded.

Wilhelm raised his hand high and delivered several solid slaps to the fullest part of Sara’s asscheeks.  She squirmed, bucked, and squealed.

Wilhelm paused, fascinated by the color show.  By now, Sara was sobbing continuously.

He started again, spreading his spanks around more and landing them unpredictably.  Sara lifted a foot, and then twisted with all her strength, but it wasn’t nearly enough to disrupt Uncle Wilhelm.  He pinned the girl in place and continued his task implacably.    

Her struggling thwarted by Wilhelm, Sara got loud; really loud.  All this drama simply reassured Wilhelm that even though Sara’s bottom was quickly reddening, the spanking was far from its goal.  Unmoved, he continued with his grim duty, but now he could understand Mary’s concern.  It’s not that Sara was being deliberately uncooperative; it’s just that she naturally reacted to spankings in a vigorous manner.

She was kicking so hard that he became concerned that she might hurt her toes on the studio’s hard floor, so he hiked her even higher on his lap.  Now her legs sprawled wide, giving him new sights and new vistas to spank. 

Finally, just as her mother had predicted, Sara began to lose her fight.  She was still crying heavily, but without the screams and wails and without the wild gyrations.

He paused again to slide her back into a more conventional position, her bottom centered over his right leg.  Sara’s skirt was obstructing spankable territory, so he readjusted it. 

He started again, peppering her entire bottom with fast, stingy slaps for an entire two minutes.  Now she was barely moving, and was crying with deep, exhausted sobs.

Remembering Mary’s final instructions, he finished with a final fusillade of very hard spanks to her sit spots.  Sara bounced but offered no resistance.

Wilhelm stopped and critically examined his work.  To his relief, he decided the job had been properly done.  He flipped down her skirt.  Sara had been thoroughly spanked.

It took a few minutes for Sara to recover her breath, her wits, and her composure.  At first, Wilhelm kept her over his lap and gently rubbed her back as her sobs gradually diminished.  Finally, he invited her up.

Wilhelm had expected her to do the “spank dance” that he remembered from his own youth, but instead the girl almost immediately crawled into his lap for a comforting hug and a last cry on his shoulder. 

He wouldn’t have blamed his niece for being angry and standoffish after her spanking, but instead he found her cuddly, apologetic, and suggestible.  Their post-spanking talk was even more productive than the pre-spanking talk.

Sara was still on her Uncle’s lap when Mary let herself into the studio.  She took a few minutes to further comfort her daughter, and then slyly sneaked a peek at Sara’s still pantyless bottom.  She mouthed “well done” to Wilhelm.  Slightly afraid he had overdone Sara’s spanking, Wilhelm smiled in relief.

It had been Sara’s first spanking over Wilhelm’s lap, but nobody, least of all Sara, thought it would be her last.

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Anonymous Anonymous said...

I liked your story, Wilhelm seems a genuinely nice guy, but one thing bugged me.

Being from Holland I can point out that Wilhelm is not really Dutch, it's German. The Dutch version of that name is Willem :)

2:42 AM, July 16, 2012  

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