Thursday, January 12, 2012

Sara's Dutch Uncle Part III

© Guyspencer 2011
Sara’s Dutch Uncle – Part III

Wilhelm had occasionally indulged in erotic expeditions back to his old haunts in Amsterdam, but had never “played” in the USA. After those first tentative intimacies with Mary, Wilhelm faced a difficult choice to protect Mary; “break it off” with Mary, or “go exclusive” by stopping his trips back home. It took all of his character and his Dutch stubbornness, but he stopped the trips. For Mary’s protection, whatever relationship they could manage would, at minimum, be monogamous.

Their relationship gradually evolved, although without sudden breakthroughs like what happened that day of Mary’s spanking. Two years later little else had changed in their lives except that Sara was rapidly growing up. She was now 16 and a junior in high school. The girl was shapely, beautiful, smart and popular in school.

Sara had grown out of her impulsiveness, but not out of her need for occasional spankings. There were the usual issues with teens; temptations such as alcohol, broken curfews, and the inevitable testing of authority. Also, Wilhelm believed that Sara was somewhat “addicted” to her spankings. Not addicted in a sexual way, but Sara seemed to need the stress relief from a good spanking. If she went more than six or eight weeks without a spanking, she became noticeably irritable. That very irritability usually led directly to the spanking she needed!

To his relief, Wilhelm rarely had to resort to the hairbrush. His hand spankings were usually more than adequate for the job. Fortunately his belt remained unused, but remained an official option.


One of Sara’s spankings was especially memorable:

In a rare return of her impulsiveness, Sara had been involved in a scuffle at school, and been sent home with a note. Naturally, Mary prescribed a spanking. As usual, Sara’s spanking was to happen at Wilhelm’s studio the next day after school. Therefore, Sara was to wear a loose skirt to school, although she much preferred tight-fitting slacks.

The next morning, Mary ensured that Sara had donned a skirt before she left for work. Sara had ten minutes between her mother’s departure and her time to leave for school. We’re unsure why, but unaccountably Sara rebelled just enough to change into slacks before leaving for school.

All day long, she wondered how Wilhelm would react on seeing that she wasn’t properly dressed for her punishment. Would he spank her over her slacks? Would he forget the whole thing? Would he (shiver) make her doff her slacks and then spank over her panties? The morning seemed to go on forever, but in the afternoon her nervousness increased. As the time got closer, the classroom clock seemed to accelerate.

With genuine reluctance she walked down the street to Wilhelm’s studio. She couldn’t rush home to change into the skirt; it was too far.

Feeling trapped and jittery, she let herself into the studio.

Wilhelm raised an eyebrow when he saw Sara’s slacks, but he greeted her as usual. It was Sara’s job to request her spanking, so he awaited events. Would she try not mentioning it?

Sara seemed nervous. She went to the bathroom and was gone several minutes. Finally she emerged and found her uncle working on a canvas.

“Err, Uncle Wilhelm?”

He swished his brush in thinner before granting her his full attention; “Yes?”

“I ahhh, was sorta bad at school yesterday. I’m supposed to ask you for a spanking.”

“Then why aren’t you properly dressed for punishment?” he asked mildly.

“I, errr, sorta forgot this morning.” She finally replied, avoiding his eyes.

“OK” Wilhelm replied in a level voice. “I need to do something first, then let’s talk.”

With that, he disappeared into his tiny office. Sara waited nervously, listening to the murmur of her Uncle’s voice behind the door. With dread, she guessed what was happening.

He emerged moments later, his face carefully blank.

“OK” he said, “Please tell me exactly that happened at school.”

With no way to sugarcoat it, she gave a fairly honest account of her misbehavior at school.

“Then your mother is correct” he finally judged, “You definitely need one of my famous bare-bottom spankings.”

The girl agreed submissively, but the matter of her slacks still hung between them.

With a deadpan delivery, Wilhelm dropped a bombshell. “OK, prepare yourself as usual.”

Slightly desperate, Sara replied, “But I can’t take my panties off Uncle Wilhelm, I’m wearing slacks.”

“Of course you can,” replied Wilhelm as if talking to a child, “You just need to take then off first.”

“But Uncle…”

He cut her off, “As you’ve probably guessed, I just talked to your mother about how to handle this. Prepare yourself as usual!”

With a sob, Sara’s hands went to the fastenings at her tiny waist.

He could have made things a bit easier for her by at least turning his head. That’s exactly why he didn’t. Her slacks came down, but then stopped just below her hips. Her panties were baby blue and amazingly wispy. She gave him a pleading look. He replied with his best “on with it” look. The slacks descended. She sat to extract her legs from them, first removing her shoes and socks. Stalling, she carefully folded her slacks and hung them over an easel.

She repeated the drama with her panties, first the begging look, then the glum acceptance, finally the descending garment. Again, Wilhelm made things difficult by keeping his eyes on her. Now Sara desperately wished that she had worn a longer blouse. It was officially against school rules, but she preferred blouses short enough to show a tiny bit of midriff. Thanks to the short blouse, her little muff was in full display. Despite the many bare bottom spankings that Wilhelm had given Sara, he now saw that part of Sara for the first time ever.

Surely Sara would have preferred to immediately start her spanking, but Wilhelm had no plans to reduce her embarrassment. He reminded her to position the spanking chair and then ordered her around the studio to lock the door and close the windows. He even sent her after a damp washcloth to wash her face after the punishment.

To her relief, he finally sat down in the spanking char. When she started to bend over his lap, he stopped her and motioned for her to stand in front of him.

“Tell me again why you were wearing slacks today?” he said, with a tiny bit of menace in his voice.

She started to speak, “I forgo…” but then stopped herself, remembering that Wilhelm had just spoken to her mother, and so must know the truth. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders, looked down and sobbed.

“Sweetheart, you lied to me didn’t you?” Wilhelm asked gently.

“Yes” Sara replied in a tiny voice.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever deliberately lied to me.” He said in a serious voice, “And over such a small matter! How will I be able to believe you in the future?”

She wrapped her arms around her uncle’s neck and sobbed on his shoulder. “How could I do something so stupid?” she blubbered.

He gave her a peck on the cheek, before gently disengaging her arms. “To answer my own question, I’ll believe you in the future because after I’m done spanking you for your folly at school, you will bring me the hairbrush and ask me to teach you not to lie.”

She looked him bravely in the eye, “Yes Uncle Wilhelm”.

Taking her by the shoulder, he guided her over his lap. With an almost fatherly pride, he admired her perfect bottom. Impossibly tiny down-like hairs reached from each side of her cleft. Last year they were touching, but now nature had spread her hips, preparing her young body for its future role. The widening of the hips presented more territory for him to spank, but it also pulled outward on the firm flesh, widening her cleft enough to come tantalizingly close to revealing intimate secrets at her valley’s bottom.

Automatically, she placed her right hand in the small of her back. He gripped her wrist, and pressed down firmly on her torso to restrain her.

He started, as usual; five hard swats directly to the fullness each asscheek. She bounced; ripples flowed through her buttocks with each blow. This part of a spanking never took over twenty seconds, yet Sara had never once lasted through it without totally losing control.

His dominance established, Wilhelm moved on to what he considered the “heart “ of the spanking, several minutes of sharp “stingers” that would scorch her bottom while giving her plenty of time to contemplate the error of her ways.

Sara had lost some of her earlier “drama queen” antics over the years, but still she didn’t take a spanking silently. She squealed, yelped, howled, begged, and made impossible promises. As usual, Wilhelm ignored it all.

Wilhelm didn’t bother to restrain her feet, so Sara was free to kick and scissor her legs. In doing so, she displayed her most personal anatomy. Wilhelm, being who he was, didn’t find the view especially stimulating.

Normally, when Sara was due to be paddled after her hand spanking, Wilhelm would cut the spanking slightly short. In particular, he would leave out his usual parting bruisers to her “sit spots”. Today, since Sara was being punished for two separate matters, he didn’t feel that such niceties were necessary. He continued the spanking to its painful conclusion, leaving a limp, sobbing and totally exhausted Sara.

The spanking temporarily over, Wilhelm suddenly became gentle and solicitous. He patted her back for several moments, making sure that she had regained her breath and her senses before allowing her up on her feet. She rubbed her bottom gently, danced a bit and started sobbing anew. Suddenly uncomfortable with her nudity, he didn’t invite her into his lap as usual. Instead, he stood and embraced his niece. Her face was a mess, smeared with the classic post-spanking amalgam of tears, mucus. drool & sweat. He remembered the washcloth and used it on her. That seemed to help.

It took ten minutes before she was recovered enough to climb up the stairs to Wilhelm’s bedroom to fetch the hairbrush from his bureau. He stood at the foot of the stairs and watched her climb; watched her out of concern for her stability, but also because the sight of Sara’s flexing beet-red buttocks retreating up the stairs was too fetching to be missed!

She returned with the hairbrush and found her uncle waiting in his spanking chair. She offered him the brush before stammering out an apology and a request to be paddled for lying to him. Soon she was back in the familiar position. He positioned her carefully, pinning her legs with one of his and insisting that she put both hands behind her back so he could secure them safe from the hairbrush.

Most people would have found the ensuing paddling hard to watch. Wilhelm steeled himself and then got to work, methodically marking her flawless bottom with the hardwood. Like all of his paddlings, it was severe but relatively brief. To Wilhelm, the purpose of a paddling was to inflict mild bruising to ensure sitting discomfort for a few days. He saw no reason to draw the process out. Poor Sara shrieked and bucked, but was pinned totally helpless for the duration.

Now Wilhelm faced the problem of soothing his niece again. He repeated his earlier methods, but now it took much longer. When he finally got her safely to her feet, he slipped up to his bathroom for a large bath towel and lotion. Back downstairs, he gently slathered the lotion on her bottom before wrapping her nudity in the towel. Finally, he invited his spanked and forgiven niece onto his lap and into his arms.

The spanking was a complete success. It was the last time Sara ever lied to her uncle.




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