Monday, April 28, 2014

Turnaround Meeting M/F

© Guyspencer 2014
Turnaround Meeting

Their little meeting truly was a “turnaround”.  It was just the two of them.  Marilyn was uncomfortably seated in a hard chair on the wrong side of her executive desk.  John, her employee, sat behind the desk and occupied Marilyn’s padded chair.  He regarded her with a sober stare.

They had spent the last 20 minutes going over spreadsheets of the company’s cash flow situation, outstanding orders, and production schedule.  For once, everything seemed to be on track!  John had ordered one small change, but otherwise he was happy with the progress of Marilyn’s company.  Marilyn would normally have been happy, but not today!  When John had turned off that computer to fix her with that stare, her bottom had suddenly started to tingle.  Marilyn had correctly guessed what was coming next! 

Marilyn owned a small high-tech machine shop.  She used computer-operated machinery to produce small high-profit parts that were used in such places as disk drives, hearing aids, and even medical implants.  She had learned the business from working in a similar establishment for several years .  Her former employer had encouraged her to move to another city and open her own machine shop, and had even provided the seed financing.  Today, she and John, her former employer, sat in the office of the business that Marilyn had created.  John had recently sold his business for enough money to retire for the rest of his life.  Fortunately for Marilyn, John had almost instantly become bored with retirement.  Now he had moved and hired on with Marilyn. 


Assuming that you are paying attention, you are probably wondering why John and Marilyn have changed places.  Why is John sitting in Marilyn’s chair while Marilyn seems to be uncomfortably “on the carpet” in front of her own desk?  The reason is simple.  It’s because John is more than just an employee!

After a year or two of modest success, Marilyn’s business had started to go downhill.  Things had progressed to the point where Marilyn was having trouble meeting the payroll.  Fortunately for her, that was when John had joined the company.  His role was to be the sales representative, as well as a sort in-house consultant and troubleshooter.   John’s connections quickly brought more business to Marilyn’s company, but John found certain problems.  On looking at the situation in depth, John had decided that Marilyn’s business was basically sound, but it was Marilyn who was the main problem!

So John had only agreed to take the job if Marilyn agreed to certain conditions.  One condition was a private weekly “turnaround” meeting between him and Marilyn.  In this case, “turnaround” had a double meaning.  First, the object of the meetings was to turnaround the business, and restore it to health and profitability.  But also “turnaround” meant that John and Marilyn exchanged roles during these meetings.  For one hour, John was the “boss” and Marilyn was the underling.  However, that change in roles was far more than just honorary!  For that one hour John had the authority to issue orders.  He expected Marilyn to carry them out throughout the week.  And if she didn’t?  Well, you will see what happens.    


Usually these “turnaround” meetings were carried out over lunch hour, but today John had specified that this week’s meeting would happen at 5:30, meaning that all of the other employees would be gone for the day.

The first part of the meeting had gone routinely.  In fact, it had gone better that routinely!  Sales were up, as were collections.  Finally they had a positive cash flow, so paydays had ceased to be an indigestion-inspiring event. 

Now they just had that “other” thing to talk about.  John swallowed a smile when he noticed Marilyn nervously fidgeting with her necklace.  She didn’t realize it, but she always did that when she thought she was in trouble.  That told John that Marilyn was in a receptive mood for the next ‘discussion”, and that she was unlikely to give him an argument.

“Marilyn, you yelled at Mr. Foster!  We’ve had this discussion before, and I’ve told you that you will always treat customers diplomatically.  We can’t afford to lose customers.  Especially not now.  What were you thinking?” 

Her fingers twisted that necklace so hard that John was afraid she would pull the gold links apart.  She finally answered, her tone only mildly defensive, “He was out of line, and the delivery date he wanted was totally impossible.” 

“Correct on both counts,” John agreed, “So it was your job to turn on the charm and work something out with him.  You accomplish nothing by yelling at a customer!”

Tears sprang into Marilyn’s eyes, “Damn it John, I know.  He just caught me at the wrong moment.  Thank you for smoothing things over with him.  I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You know,” John replied, “Your good attitude about this makes this discussion both easier and harder.”

She looked at him strangely, waiting for the inevitable explanation.

“It’s easier because we don’t have an argument,” he continued, “but harder because I still have to punish you for what you did, even though I’m pleased with your attitude.  There are ten employees here who depend on you to do the right thing every day.  If you screw up and make us go bust, they’ll miss their mortgage payments and will barely be able to feed their kids from their unemployment checks.”

Marilyn nodded miserably, new tears running down her cheeks.

There was a long silence in the office, broken only by Marilyn’s sobs.  Finally John spoke in that special “kind but firm” voice that Marilyn knew so well, “Shall we get it over with Marilyn?”

She inspected the carpet, and then finally nodded miserably.

“You know the drill,” he said, “Shoes, skirt and panties.”

Marilyn could have begged to be let off, but she knew that she needed this lesson to be burned into her psyche.   Besides; part of her craved both the emotional release of a spanking and the unconditional forgiveness that John always granted at times like this. 

Her mind wrapped in a protective fuzz of denial, she kicked off her shoes, unzipped her skirt, and allowed it to drop to the floor.  She hesitated only slightly before pulling down her panties, doing  it with her usual blush.  As usual, the color of her newly-unveiled lower curls matched the bright red hue of her upper tresses.  No hair coloring for this lady!  She folded her clothing neatly, placing everything on her desk.

John watched Marilyn’s unveiling with his usual detachment.  Although she was pushing 40, Marilyn kept herself trim.  Nature had been good to her, so she was still a fine looking woman.  Her hips were nicely rounded, her belly still flat, and her breasts were nicely proportioned.  Her long legs were among her best features, along with her firm but round bottom.  It was a bottom that John knew from previous experience was eminently spankable.   Although he was a perfectly normal male, and a happily married one, John was somehow able to inspect Marilyn’s body with little of the normal male reaction.

You may find it strange, but John’s wife knew of his occasional bare-bottom duties at work and not only wasn’t jealous, she fully approved!

It wasn’t required, but Marilyn also removed her blouse, folding it and laying it on top of her other clothing.  John looked on in approval.  “That’s why Marilyn will ultimately succeed,” he thought to himself, “She always goes beyond the minimum.”   

She stood uneasily before him, naked from her bra to her anklets.

“I like your attitude today,” he announced, “so we won’t need the hairbrush.  But beyond that, expect no mercy.”

She nodded tearfully, “Thanks John, that’s the most I could hope for.”

He rolled his chair back from the desk.  Automatically, she walked around the desk to his side.  He patted his lap, so she obediently put herself into the time-honored correctional position.   
“Keep those thighs well apart,” he ordered, “I’ll need the maximum surface to spank.”

With a sad sigh she obeyed, showing him her most intimate charms, which he looked at with the same excitement that a doctor reserves for his patients.  Similarly, Marilyn was feeling no particular sexual excitement, although her mind was occupied with thoughts of regret for her behavior, moderate embarrassment over her predicament, and unhappy anticipation of the pain about to come.

The reason for their mutual lack of sexual interest was simple.  John and Marilyn had long loved each other, but they could never be lovers.   You see, John and Marilyn were siblings.


In the words of her long-departed mother, “Marilyn is the most loveable surprise we ever had.”  That’s because Marilyn was a very late “change of life” baby, born years after her mother’s fertility was supposed to have departed.  On the day she was born, John was already technically an adult.

As Marilyn grew up, her parents quickly aged.  It had fallen to John to take care of their aging parents and to see to his kid sister’s discipline.  So John had been spanking Marilyn since she was ten.  To Marilyn, her older brother was part brother, part parent, and part Dutch uncle!  Over the decades, that relationship had remained basically unchanged.

That’s why Marilyn found herself once again over John’s lap today.


John had one more thing to say before he landed the first blow to Marilyn’s bottom, “I’ve checked the entire building, and double locked the doors.  So all employees are gone, and even those with keys can’t return.  It’s OK to make all the noise you want Marilyn.”

He heard her answer, spoken from down near her office’s carpet, “Thanks John.  Do what you need to do then.  I’ll understand, and I promise to learn from it.”

And he did!  The next few minutes were hell for Marilyn.

No believer in “warm up” spanks, John’s first spanks were several nearly full-strength slaps delivered to the fleshiest summits of her twin orbs, designed to quickly crash through his “kid” sister’s defenses.  As usual, it worked.  Marilyn’s initial sobs turned to frank cries, which turned to squeals, which finally morphed into out-of-control shrieks.    

John had told her to keep her thighs apart, a command he reserved for Marilyn’s most serious spankings.  This was to be one of those!  Marilyn did the best she could to cooperate, but soon she was kicking and squirming.  Those thighs quickly slammed together when John landed his first spanks down below her sit-spots, but John instantly corrected her.  Marilyn quickly, albeit reluctantly, obeyed.  He also had to correct her several more times before he had finally spanked her buttocks and thighs to an impressively scarlet hue. 

Once she almost managed to squirm entirely off of his lap, but he stopped to reposition her, and then continued his task with a new vigor.

Finally he paused.  He allowed her time to regain a bit of control, and to remember why she was being punished.  As he waited, he rubbed his hands together to assuage the sting in his right hand.

When her crying finally slowed a bit, he asked her a few questions about why she was being punished.  At first she didn’t seem to hear the questions, but finally she began to supply satisfactory answers, although they were filtered through her continuing sobs, sniffles and hiccups. 

John’s spankings followed a definite pattern, so they both knew that this spanking wasn’t yet over.  He always ended with a last flurry of very hard spanks, but first he always paused to “bring her back,” mentally.  The idea was to reinforce her “lesson” by forcing her to remember the reason for her spanking.

John shifted Marilyn slightly on his lap, freeing his right leg so he could use it to pinion her legs in place.  His left arm snaked down to her side, where it grabbed her right wrist and held it down so that hand couldn’t reach back.

This is the moment when John usually picked up the hairbrush for use, and he glumly regretted his hasty decision to not use it.  His right hand still stung, yet the hardest part of the spanking was about to start.  He shook his hand to ensure proper blood flow, and then raised it high.

Slowly and deliberately, he delivered six full-strength spanks to each of Marilyn’s already red buttocks as she bucked and screamed.  He shook his hand again to assuage the sting, and then delivered four more measured swats to each sit spot.

It was over, Marilyn had been punished!  And with John, “punished” was always synonymous with “forgiven”.  Carefully he helped her to her feet.  Afraid that she might trip, he watched her closely as she bawled, danced, and rubbed her spanked bottom.  When she was finally able to stand in one place, he held her close and allowed her a long cry on his shoulder.

When she finally began to regain control, he left her for a moment and dashed into the washroom.  He returned with a damp cloth and a towel.  As if she were a child, he lovingly washed her face.  Next, he opened the bottom left drawer of Marilyn’s desk.  There he found the formidable wooden hairbrush that he had earlier eschewed, and a jar of aloe cream.  He grabbed the cream.

He sat in the chair again, and Marilyn automatically put herself across his lap again so that he could apply the soothing balm.

She jumped as the first chilly dollop of cream touched her bottom, but then relaxed and sighed as he spread it on.  As he worked he asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“You know damn well I’m not,” the lady replied emphatically, “I deserved that and more.  Now that it’s over, I can see that I really needed it too.  Thanks John, thanks for everything you do.”                       
Finally off her brother’s lap, Marilyn gingerly dressed herself.  John was still in the room, but she showed no more embarrassment than if she were in the lady’s locker room at the gym.

Still fast friends, they left the building together.  They got into their separate cars and drove off to their separate lives.

A few months later, the fortunes of Marilyn’s company looked definitely better.  Several new customers were now aboard.  Mr. Foster had long forgotten his mishandling at Marilyn’s hands, and now numbered among her most loyal customers.  Marilyn had shed some bad management habits, and had become better organized and more focused on important details. 

Therefore, John quietly left the company to spend more time with his wife and to take another try at retirement. 

But one thing hadn’t changed.  Marilyn needed someone in her life to “keep her straight,” but no man had ever appeared who seemed up to the job.  Unless and until that “special” man appeared,  Marilyn and John would continue to schedule the occasional private “turnaround meeting”.  Each time, the level in that jar of aloe cream would get a bit lower, but Marilyn would find her tensions relieved, albeit at considerable expense to her bottom.

You might find John and Marilyn’s relationship strange, but it’s an arrangement that works for them.  Who are we to judge?     

© Guyspencer 2014

Sunday, April 20, 2014

The House Squatter

© Guyspencer 2014
The House Squatter

Ted stood alone in the ruined living room of his childhood home, feeling old memories wash over him like storm-blown waves.  The address, 20885 Pierson Street, was forever etched into his brain.  In case he should ever get lost, it was the first thing his parents had taught him to recite as a toddler.

They had moved out just before his tenth birthday, so all of his earliest memories were of this place.  His parents had been strict but loving with him and his two siblings.  His memories of that discipline were vivid, but not bitter.  He looked down the cluttered hallway at the door of the bedroom he had shared with his older brother.   Most of the spankings in his family were private, pants-off affairs, delivered in the children’s bedrooms.  For example; he had listened to his sister Jane get spanked many times.  From the sound, he knew that she got it on her bare bottom just like he and his brother, but he had never actually seen it happen.

However, he looked at the remains of a couch that was almost buried under a pile of rubble, and remembered one notable exception to the family’s “private spanking” rule:

Ted’s teen brother, Dale, had taken to bullying him.  Dale had threatened great retribution if Ted should ever tell his parents, so Ted had suffered in silence for several weeks.  Fortunately for Ted, a nosy neighbor lady had spied a one-sided altercation between Ted and Dale and had alerted Ted’s parents.  Soon they had extracted the entire sorry story from both boys.

The parents spent a long time alone with Dale in the boy’s bedroom.  Ted had waited in the living room, expecting to hear a spanking at any minute.  It never happened!  Finally the parents emerged, looking grim and tight-lipped.  They ordered Ted and Jane to stay home, and to leave Ted alone in that bedroom.  Nothing happened for perhaps an hour.  Finally, the parents assembled the whole family in the living room, and called Dale out of his bedroom.  He came out slowly and reluctantly.  Ted and Jane were shocked to see him wearing only underpants.

They made Dale apologize to Ted in front of the entire family, and promise that there would be no further trouble.  Ted was surprised to see tears on his big brother’s face.  Dale was obviously afraid of his coming punishment, but somehow he managed a heartfelt apology.   

Then Ted and Jane watched in open-mouthed shock as their father took over the couch, and then ordered Dale across his lap.  Spankings in this family were normally pants-off.  However this once, apparently in deference to his sister’s presence, he merely lowered them in back.

Ted and Jane watched the unfortunate Dale howl and perform a humiliating horizontal dance as his father spanked his bottom to a bright red.  Then father stopped, pulled Dale’s underpants up into a tight “wedgie” and started spanking anew, this time concentrating on his lower orbs, sit spots, and thighs.  It was a much wiser and well-spanked Dale who finally was allowed up from his father’s lap.  Bullying was never again a problem in that family!     

With a start, Ted’s mind returned to the present.  That couch had been old and worn back then, but now it was pure junk, only useful for triggering memories.  Similarly, the rest of the  house was familiar, yet also unfamiliar.  The same can be said for the neighborhood.  In Ted’s early childhood, this Detroit neighborhood had been a safe place, filled with middle-class wage-earner families and teaming with their children playing in their yards, the parks, and even in the streets.  Today that same neighborhood is a cesspool of decay, drugs, poverty and despair.  Each street has gaps where nice homes once stood.  Each block has several abandoned and boarded up homes that are in danger of being torched by roving bands of youth, or by the squatters simply trying to stay warm in them.   Sprinkled amongst this squalor and crime, you will find neat homes with good families struggling to make the best of a bad situation.

Ted’s parents had bought this house when they were newlyweds.  Even though they hadn’t lived here for nearly 20 years, they still loved the old place.  They had been among the last whites to leave, and had only done so to keep young Ted from being infected by drugs and gangs.  They had hated the self-defeating phenomena of “white flight”, but ultimately couldn’t fight it alone.  So they had boarded up the old home and rented a place in a nicer neighborhood with hopes of moving back to their cherished old home for their “empty nest” years. 

Looking back, Ted realized that it had been senseless to keep the old house.  But his parents  had done it anyhow, and had done so at considerable expense.  Ted remembered making weekend trips back into the city to help his father check the house and to patch it up when it inevitably had been broken into and trashed.

Ted’s older brother and sister had long ago fled Michigan pursuing careers, but Ted had stayed with his parents, doing so partially out of financial necessity and partly out of loyalty.  Jobs had been scarce after he had finished school, but now he was finally established in a good job and it was time for him to have a place of his own.  Having grown too old to consider moving, his parents had signed the old house over to him.  Since the house had no monetary value, yet the city demanded that the annual tax bill be paid, perhaps accepting it wasn’t the most rational decision that Ted had ever made.  Yet somehow he had been infected by his parent’s love for this old house.

The house was a dilapidated and abused mess, but Ted intended to restore it to livable condition.  A construction worker, Ted was handy with his hands.  He knew he would need to learn some skills “by doing”, but was ready to tackle the job.

The condition of the house was truly discouraging.  Trash was piled high in every room.  Thieves had torn the plaster off the walls so they could get to the pipes, the wires, or anything else that could be sold.  First Ted planned to re-secure the boards on the windows, and then he would put new locks on the old doors.  Then, with the house secure, he would start cleaning out the debris.  With that done, he would finally be able to start the long job of rebuilding the house with the goal of eventually occupying it.  Until then, he would continue to live with his parents.

Even though Ted would be virtually the only white person in the neighborhood, he was determined to move back.  He planned to go out of his way to befriend his neighbors and win their trust.  Eventually he hoped that they would stop seeing a white face and instead see a friend.

In his inspection of the house, he found one surprise.  One bedroom was clean and neat, albeit  furnished with mismatched furniture obviously scrounged from scrap piles.  Although he didn’t see anyone around, somebody had obviously been sleeping in the house.

Ted was no dummy, he knew that he didn’t need any enemies in this neighborhood, even if that person happened to be a squatter in his own house.  His house could easily be torched!  So at first he did nothing.

On his next visit to the house, he found evidence of recent occupation in that bedroom.  In fact, he found the back door wide open as if the person had slipped out the back door the moment he had come in the front!

Still not wanting to make an enemy, he left a small offering of food in the room.  He worked for a few hours securing the boards on the windows, and then left.

It went that way for the next two visits.  Each time, Ted would leave a few groceries in the room, and made no attempt to evict the unseen squatter.

Finally Ted progressed enough to put new locks on the doors.  He left the front door locked, but the back door unlocked.  In the bedroom he left his usual bag of groceries, but this time he also left a key.  The next time he returned to work on the house, he found both doors securely locked.  Now the squatter obviously knew that Ted had no plans to immediately evict him.


It happened one day when Ted had taken a vacation day from his job to work on the house, therefore arriving unexpectedly.  He entered via the front door as usual.  He had a bag of groceries to leave in the squatter’s bedroom, so he went to do that first.  When he opened the door, he was shocked to find a young black woman apparently asleep on the bed.  There was a small child curled up next to her.

Once he got over his surprise, Ted quietly closed the door and started his planned tasks for the day.  By now he had the debris cleaned out of the house, and was starting to install water pipes in the framework of the old walls.  One hour later when Ted was struggling to balance a long pipe, he felt someone help by lifting the far end.  He looked up and saw the woman holding the pipe for him. 

“I see you’ve finally found me and Chanita,” she said, “Are you going to turn us in?”

“Turn you in?” he asked in surprise, “Turn you in to whom?”

She just shrugged, obviously unwilling to answer her own question.
“I guess you want us to leave.”

He ignored her question, instead changing the subject, “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Ted.  This is my house.  In fact, I was born here.  So your daughter’s name is Chanita?  That’s a pretty name!  What’s yours?”

She seemed to consider if she should answer or not.  When she did, he had no idea if she gave her real name, but at least he had a name to call her.  She extended her hand, “It’s Tavena.  I’m, pleased to meet you Ted.  At least--I hope I’m pleased to meet you.”

He took her hand, and finally took a good look at her.  She was perhaps 20 years old.  She was a bit skinny, but otherwise attractive.  She was clean, but since the house’s water had been turned off years ago, he had no idea how she managed to stay that way.  Her clothes had seen better days, but were neat and apparently clean.  She returned his look with a street-wise directness, obviously sizing him up.       


Nothing further was said between them that day.  He purposely backed off, leaving the house hours before he really wanted to.  His idea was to give Tavena and her daughter a bit of space.  He eventually would need to get a few things straight with her, especially since there was a child involved, but first he needed time to think.  Doubtless Tavena needed the same.

The next weekend when he returned to do more plumbing work, he purposely didn’t peek into that bedroom.  Instead, he put his usual offering of groceries just outside the bedroom door.  Except this time, the bag of groceries was larger than before.  It contained food for two, and also a doll for Chanita.

He had been working for over an hour when he felt a presence behind him.  Finally he heard her voice, “Well white boy, are you planning to kick us black girls out?”

His eyes on his work, Ted replied, “If I wanted you out, I would have kicked you out months ago.  Why do you suppose I gave you a key?”

“OK,”  she said in a tense voice, “Then what now?  Am I supposed to screw you for the privilege of staying in your junky house?”   

Ted whirled around. “We need to get a few things straight.  First, let’s show each other a bit of respect, OK?  I’ve told you my name, so you know it isn’t ‘white boy’.  Also, this is my house.  If my house happens to be junky, it’s because people like you keep breaking into it and trashing it. 

“I haven’t trashed your house mister.”

“Perhaps so,” he agreed, “but I notice you didn’t deny breaking in here.  And my name isn’t ‘mister’ either.  Please call me Ted.”

Remembering something else, he rounded on her again, “And as for screwing you, forget it!  I’ve got a girlfriend, thanks.”  (Actually Ted was “between girlfriends”.  Usually he spoke with more candor, but he was feeling defensive at the moment.)

Then Ted had another thought.  In a softer voice he asked, “Where’s your little girl?”

Tavena’s face softened, “She’s a good sleeper.  She’s in our room.”

“That’s good,” Ted said.  “Now can we converse like adults to figure out where we go from here?”

Tavena nodded guardedly.

Ted produced a thermos of coffee.  He filled his cup.  Tavena retrieved a clean-looking cup from her room and helped herself to some. 

Ted spoke first, “I suppose there’s no point in asking if you have a better place to stay.”

“No” she agreed, “This is the only place I’ve got.  If you kick us out, I’ll just have to find another abandoned house for me and Chanita to stay in.   

“And if you go,” Ted said, “then someone else will probably break in, and possibly trash the place faster than I can fix it.”

“So we need each other,” Tavena agreed, “My daughter and I need a place to stay, and you need someone to watch your place.”

“Yes,” Ted agreed, “that’s been my idea all along.  It would only be temporary.  I intend to move in here, but that won’t happen for many months to come.  But this is my house so we go by my rules.”

Immediately on guard, Tavena asked, “Rules?  What rules?”

“Just two to start,” Ted replied, “But we might agree on others later.  First, no drugs, and second you don’t pull any tricks here.”

Tavena flared, “Do I look like a druggie prostitute to you?  Do you think I would teach my daughter a life like that?”

Ted held up a hand in surrender, “Tavena, I don’t know you, so I don’t ‘think’ anything about you.  If you’re not a druggie or a prostitute then we don’t have a problem, do we?”

Tavena lifted her sleeves to display track-free arms, and spoke with her street pride, “I don’t use that shit and I don’t hang around people who do.  And no man can buy me.”      

Ted held out his hand, “Then we have a deal?”

She took his hand and gave it a businesslike shake, “Deal.”


Ted had resolved to keep his dealings with Tavena and Chanita on a remote and businesslike basis, but over the next few months he found himself gradually caring more and more about them.  In particular, Chanita was a beguiling little creature.  It took the tyke time to warm up to Ted, understandable because she had never before been close to a white person.  Once getting used to Ted though, she quickly wormed her way into his heart.  She was a slight, active little thing with wide eyes and bobbing pigtails.  Ted quickly deduced that Tavena’s greatest fear was that the authorities would find some pretense to take her daughter away from her.  Several times he tried to talk her into applying for aid, but Tavena would do nothing that might bring her to the attention of the government. 

“You’re no longer homeless,” he told her more than once, “You even have a real address now.”

“Do you think this house would pass an inspection?” she would retort, “We don’t even have water or electricity.”

Ted’s response was to work on his number one priority, providing a working bathroom.  He finally managed that.  That done, Tavena’s and Chanita’s life became more civilized.

Ted was a good handyman, but he had limited time and finances.  Still, he managed to get a few electrical circuits into the house before the evenings became too cold.  One day he brought them a portable heater for their bedroom and another for the bathroom.  Now they had a few lights, and minimal heat for those two rooms. 

That first winter was tough!  One space heater kept that one occupied bedroom habitable, and a smaller heater kept the bathroom just warm enough to avoid freeze damage.  The rest of the house was so cold that Ted found it difficult to accomplish much.  Besides, he often had to spend hours just shoveling the snow that had accumulated over the weekdays while he was away.  Also, those electric heaters were expensive to operate.  The electric bills cut into Ted’s budget, so he couldn’t spend as much on repairs.    

Tavena helped Ted some, but she had mixed motives in doing so.  On one hand the house was becoming more and more livable, which was good for her.  But on the other hand, she knew that Ted was fixing this house up for himself and that she was only a temporary caretaker.  She assumed that eventually he would ask her to leave.  The more she helped, the sooner that day would come!  Still, she had come to admire Ted, and she liked being with him, even though she assumed that they could never have a future together.  That said, Tavena quickly deduced that Ted didn’t actually have a girlfriend.  That gave her a faint, if illogical, hope.  

While Ted doted on Chanita, his relationship with Tavena remained more distant.  After they got the bathroom into commission however, the dainty “things” that Tavena often washed out in the sink and hung in there to dry served to remind him that she was indeed a woman, albeit a woman of another race.  Increasingly, he found it distinctly pleasant to be in her company.   

But he kept telling himself, “I’m not going to get involved!”

  Part 2

Gradually, in spite of themselves and in spite of the difference in their races and their backgrounds, Ted and Tavena drifted closer together.

At first, Ted had only been vaguely aware that Tavena did odd jobs around the neighborhood to get along.  He was afraid to pry because he was afraid that whatever “jobs” Tavena did weren’t legal.  As it turned out though, the truth was almost boring.  She mostly did odd babysitting jobs and light housekeeping.  She took only jobs that allowed her to bring Chanita along.  Those same jobs had given her access to her customer’s bathrooms, showers, and laundry facilities before Ted had come along to provide them with their own facilities.   
In bits and pieces, Ted learned more about Tavena.  She had been raised by a single mother, a dedicated and loving woman who had died young because she lacked proper health care.  Tavena often spoke in glowing terms of her late mother.  “She used to spank my bare teenaged ass when I did something wrong, but she always did the right thing by me.  I loved her, and she loved me.  I don’t know how we made it, because I never had a daddy and we never had a spare dime.  She had a hard time keeping a job.  Like me, she never finished high school.”

Now Tavena found herself repeating history.  Like her own mother, she was an uneducated single mother trying to eke out some sort of an existence for herself and for her own fatherless daughter.  Like her own mother, Tavena saw no escape from her situation.  Her focus was living day-to-day, and she had no dreams that went beyond pure survival for her and her child.

Chanita’s father was a young man who had pledged his undying love for Tavena, but had disappeared at the first sign of her pregnancy.  Tavena was understandably bitter about that, and remained wary of men.            

The following spring and summer, Ted’s efforts really started to show on the house.  With the plumbing and electrical done, he fixed the windows and removed the boards from them.  With sunlight shining in, the house was a far more cheerful place!  Next he taught himself how to install drywall.  More artistic than him, Tavena proved adept at neatly plastering the joints and nail hollows so that the entire wall looked flawless.  When working in the house, Tavena wore an old man’s shirt and cutoff denim shorts that were so brief that her panty-covered lower orbs hung out.  Ted couldn’t help but notice how good she looked at times those, even with white plaster smeared on her face!  Tavena was slim, but her body was properly upholstered in all the correct places.  She had a high and prominent bottom that often caught Ted’s eye, especially when it was protruding from those shorts!     

As Tavena worked, Ted saw her quickly gaining skills and confidence.  When not working at her “odd jobs”, she started working on the house even on days when Ted couldn’t be there, making progress go faster.

With a “loan” from his parents, the house gained a furnace and new appliances for the kitchen.  With a usable kitchen, life became even more civilized for Tavena and Chanita.  They finished off one bedroom, after laboriously painting the newly plastered walls, and refinishing the floors.  When he moved Tavena and Chanita in that room so that they could start refinishing the bedroom that the “girls”had been occupying, Ted’s parents became concerned, “You’re not becoming too involved with them are you?”

Naturally, Ted claimed that he wasn’t, but the opposite was true.  In fact, Ted was becoming increasingly concerned about Tavena’s and Chanita’s future.  Like anyone focused on day-to-day survival, Tavena spent little time worrying or planning for the future, yet Ted had little trouble foreseeing great problems for the mother and daughter. 

Sometimes he and Tavena would share a beer or two after a day’s work on the house, Ted used these relaxed times to urge Tavena to think about the future, “In just two more years, Chanita will have to start school.  Then you won’t be able to avoid contact with officials.  Right now you have a stable house to live in, so why don’t you get a regular job?”

She looked at him like he had just said the stupidest thing in the world!  “Because nobody will hire me silly!  I don’t have any job skills and no education.”

He had an answer for that, “OK, but we know that you are pretty talented at working on the house, especially plastering.  What if we got you into a union job training program?

She took a long, nervous pull on her beer, “And what am I supposed to do with Chanita while I’m off at this school?  Roll her up and stick her in my pocket?”

Ted swallowed.  This was the hard part, a big sacrifice for him.  “You find the person whom you trust to babysit Chanita, and negotiate a price I can afford.  It will consume some of the money I’ve been spending on the house, so it will slow us down.  In return, I would expect you to work your ass off in school and to attend every day without fail.  Learning to show up on time every day is, in itself, an important part of job training.  Because that’s what your future employer will expect from you.”             

It was an opportunity that Tavena had never expected to have, something that she had never even bothered to dream about!  Still, she was hesitant.  Although she was intelligent, her memories of school weren’t good.  She had been happy to escape school as soon as she had been old enough.  Her mother had been horrified, but by then had been too sick to do much about it.  The truth was, by then the lady was too sick to work and so needed Tavena for support, meager as that monetary support was.   

Tavena knew that to accept Ted’s offer, and also to eventually join the job market, was to give up a major part of her independence.  But having a regular paycheck grants a type of independence all its own!  And how could she give up an opportunity to give her daughter a better life?  With a bit of sadness for the life she would be leaving, and squelching an understandable, if not totally rational fear of failure and fear of the unknown, Tavena ultimately accepted Ted’s generous offer.  

As a young worker, Ted didn’t have much influence with the union, but he was young enough that the instructors at the job training center remembered him from his own student days.  Fortunately, their memories were good!  He managed to talk them into accepting Tavena into their drywall training program.  Completing that program and becoming employed could be Tavena’s ticket to the middle class!  

As luck would have it, Tavena only had to wait three weeks for a new class to start.  Every morning she would leave Chanita with a nice lady who lived only two blocks away.  Then she would take a bus downtown to the training center.  It was hard to be separated from Chanita!  The child had been together with her mother nearly 24/7 since birth, and clearly didn’t understand.  The first week was murder.  Tavena had to walk away from a screaming child every morning.  As children do though, Chanita soon accepted her new routine and learned to love her sitter.

Tavena herself was another problem!  Although not lazy, Tavena had never before had to be at a certain place at a certain time.  To be fair, the city’s arthritic bus system was part of the problem, but Tavena’s attendance record at school wasn’t good.  She was often late, and occasionally missed entire days, offering only vague excuses.  Still though, Tavena showed aptitude for the work and learned quickly.  But the school stressed attendance and Tavena’s own bad habits were sabotaging her.  Regardless of her aptitude for the work, the training center was adamant that their students must learn to show up on time, and must show up every day!

Naturally word of this problem quickly got back to Ted.  Twice he talked to Tavena about her attendance, and each time she promised to reform.  So he quietly asked the school to call him whenever she was absent.  A mere two weeks later, Ted was at work when he got the call telling him that Tavena was absent from school.  He called Chanita’s baby sitter, and was told that the child had been dropped off that morning as usual.  On a hunch, he took time off from work and drove to his house. 

He wasn’t at all surprised to find Tavena at home.  She didn’t look happy to see him!  In fact, she looked distinctly unhappy, with tears flowing down her cheeks.

Ted started to loudly lecture her, but Tavena cut him off, “You can save yourself the trouble Ted, I’ve been beating myself up all morning.  Maybe I’m just not good enough to be anything but a dumb house squatter.”

“Nonsense!” Ted said.  “I’ve been talking to your instructors and they say you are gifted.  Your problem is simply Tavena sabotaging herself.  But you’re also sabotaging your daughter’s future.  You won’t ever get rich working construction, but you’ll be able to afford to give your daughter a real home through her high school years.  You might even send her to college!”

In a lower voice he continued, “But that won’t happen if you continue like this.  Do you want your daughter to have a future or not?”

Tavena collapsed in tears, “You know I want my daughter to have a future.”

“You can’t continue like this.” explained Ted, “If you want a job, you must learn to show up on time, and to show up every day without fail.  You must do that even on days when you don’t feel like showing up.  So what should we do about this Tavena?”     

Ted may have meant that as a rhetorical question, but Tavena took it very seriously.  She stopped to consider before she spoke, “We should do exactly what my mother would have done if she had caught me playing hooky, and I’ll bet your parents would have done the same!”

Ted merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“What my mother would have done.” Tavena declared, “is spank me long and hard.  Then she would have taken me and my sore ass straight to school to finish the day.”

Ted looked at Tavena goggle-eyed, but she persisted, “Will you do that for me Ted?  You’ve done so much for me already, but this will show you that I’m really serious.  Then, when we get a chance to talk, we’ll figure out what happens to me if I am late again, or what size belt you will use on my bare ass if I’m stupid enough to play hooky again.”

“Are you serious about this?” Ted asked, “You really want me to spank you and then drive you to school?”

“I’m serious as a heart attack,” Tavena said with a new batch of tears rolling down her cheeks, “Not just spank me, but spank me long and hard; spank me so that I never want to dare skip school again.  My mother always knew when to do that, but she’s gone now.  Besides my daughter, you’re the only real friend I’ve got.  So it’s you or nobody.”

Ted shrugged, “Tavena, I’ve...I’ve...”

“You’ve never spanked anyone before?” she asked.  “You’ve admitted that you were spanked into your teens, so you certainly know the procedure.  This isn’t rocket science!  I’m not fragile, so spank me until I’m desperate for the spanking to end.  But then that’s only a good start!  Just keep spanking until I’m worn out.  Don’t worry, I won’t get mad at you.  Goodness knows, I never got mad at my mother.”

“At least,” she continued lamely, “I was never mad at her for long.”

“So this is really what you want?” Ted challenged, “You’ll really submit to a spanking without changing your mind as soon as you feel the first few spanks?”

Tavena’s chin went up in the air at the challenge, but her reply was soft, “Yes Ted, I will.  Now can we please get it over with?”

In reply, Ted pulled a kitchen chair into the middle of the room, sat down, and watched for Tavena’s next move.  He noted that she was wearing a loose mid-length skirt, perfect for the occasion.  Slowly, she moved to his right side and looked at him expectantly.

He spoke in a formal voice, “This spanking is for skipping school.  I intend for it to hurt.  But if you do it again, you get far worse.  Agreed?”

Soberly, she nodded.

This was new and strangely exciting! Ted found himself drawn into this new power dynamic.  One effect on Ted was physical, and exclusively male.  He had never felt particularly attracted to Tavena, but suddenly his penis was at half mast. 

He had planned to flip up her skirt to facilitate Tavena’s spanking, but was wondering if he dared lower her panties.  Tavena decided the issue for him!  She reached up inside her skirt, and then suddenly her panties appeared bunched at her knees.  It would be awhile before Ted would be able to recognize her blushes, but her embarrassment was obvious.   She explained: “Momma always said that a spanking isn’t a spanking unless it’s done on a bare bottom.”

Instantly Ted’s maleness came to full attention!  There was no hiding the bulge.  Now it was his turn to be embarrassed!  He blushed, adjusted himself, and started to stammer an apology.  She stopped him in mid-stammer, “It’s OK.  I understand, and I accept that as a sincere compliment.”

Ted swallowed, nodded his thanks for her acceptance of his condition, and then reached out for her hand.  She complied with the wordless request, placing her hand in his.  He tugged, carefully pulling her across his lap and positioning her so that her weight missed his erection.

He grabbed the hem of her skirt, and carefully raised it as far as it would go, uncovering two curvaceous thighs and a pair of delicious, albeit black, feminine buttocks.  Tavena didn’t even realize it, but when she felt cool air “back there”, she clenched, wriggled, and the surface of her skin developed a crop of goose pimples.  For a few moments Ted sat frozen, lost in the sight!

Tavena lay across Ted’s lap, her mind awash in a stew of conflicting emotions.  First, she was upset at herself for giving in to the impulse to skip school, and embarrassed to be in this juvenile position with her bare bottom exposed to this man’s view.  Naturally, she was afraid that the spanking would hurt, but she was also afraid that Ted’s efforts might be embarrassingly tentative.

Tavena was too proud to admit it, even to herself, but she wanted Ted, wanted a life with him.  She knew that his expensively generous offer to allow her to go to job training must signify some interest in her, but it wasn’t necessarily the romantic interest she secretly desired.  Also, she knew that being tardy and skipping school were hardly ways to become dear to his heart!

Finally Tavena noticed that nothing was happening.  Ted had bared her bottom and apparently was staring at it, but he hadn’t yet landed the first spank.  Just as she started to turn her head towards him, the first spank landed.  It startled her, and made her draw in her breath.  But it barely stung.      

But that first spank was followed by dozens of others, landing at random all over her bottom.  At first, she could easily stand the sting.  If fact, it was almost pleasant. She wriggled her bottom, a response to the intense tingle and the unfamiliar situation. 

Ted noticed the wriggle.  By Tavena’s silence, he deduced that he wasn’t yet having much effect.  So he upped the ante, delivering slower but much harder spanks.  Tavena grunted, grunted at first in surprise, but then in distinct pain.  She wriggled again, but now far more urgently.  Ted grinned slightly.  He was finally having an effect.  He could do this!    

Tavena’s ebony bottom didn’t dramatically change color in response to his efforts.  This didn’t bother Ted because it was the first spanking he had ever given, so he didn’t really know what to expect.  Instead, he took his cue from Tavena’s behavior. 

Remembering how much he had hated it when his parents did the same, he targeted the tender area where Tavena’s buttocks met her legs.  Her response was shrill.  She kicked and tried to splay her legs.  This effect was deeply interesting to Ted.  Being male, he couldn’t help but look to see what secret feminine delights her antics might expose.  Disappointingly for Ted, her panties stubbornly remained at her knees.  Stretched to their limit, the panties held her thighs barely close enough together to preserve the lady’s modesty.

By now, Tavena was clearly frantic for this spanking to end.  She cried, begged, and promised perfect school attendance in the future, if only he would please stop!  Remembering Tavena’s own advice, he ignored her entreaties and continued the spanking until she was worn out.

Finally that clearly happened.  Her crying diminished, and he barely kicked or twisted in response to his continuing spanks.  Considering his job accomplished, he stopped.  With some regret, he flipped her skirt down to hide her bare nates.  His voice changed from the firm tones of the disciplinarian, to the soft and calming tones of a concerned friend.  He rubbed her back for a while until she had calmed down a bit, and then helped her to her feet.

The next thing that Ted knew, Tavena was in his lap sobbing.  At first he didn’t know what to think!  He felt like a bully.  He had hurt this woman, and now she was crying her heart out as he held her!  Finally he realized that Tavena was crying about far more than just the sting in her bottom.  She was crying out years of frustration and tension and loneliness.  

Finally she calmed enough to stand, pull up her panties and wipe her eyes with a tissue.  Then she quickly returned to Ted.  Her voice was hoarse from screeching and crying, but she clearly had something she needed to say, “Thanks Ted.  I needed that in more ways than you know.  And don’t worry.  I got the point!  There won’t be any more playing hooky.”   


This is the place where many spanking stories morph into hot romances.  Things didn’t work quite that fast for Ted and Tavena, but there was a small moment of promise.

She reached down into his lap, and boldly caressed that place that was still hard, “I’m sorry about that problem you seem to have Ted.  Don’t worry, it’s on my ‘to-do’ list!  But right now you need to take me to school.”

At school, Ted and Tavena had a conference with the administrator, and promised that Tavena’s attendance would vastly improve.  As it turned out, Tavena was serious this time.

The next weekend when Ted returned to work on the house, they had their promised talk.  They decided on definite consequences for anything less than perfect school attendance.  There would be a spanking for any tardiness, and a strapping for any unexcused missed days. 

In the future, Tavena would earn other spankings, but no strappings.  Because of the bad bus service, Ted didn’t always feel good about spanking her for a tardy.  But they had agreed that Tavena would do whatever it took to get to school on time, so she never offered excuses. 

As for another promise that Tavena had made:

The next Saturday evening, Tavena managed to lure Chanita to bed early.  The day’s work finished, Ted and Tavena relaxed together with a beer.  Ted had decided that Tavena’s “to-do list” comment was a jest, so he said nothing about it.  Tavena had other ideas.  Slyly her hand went to his waist and stimulated her target.  Ted didn’t object.  Almost shyly, she dropped to her knees, unzipped him, and then favored Ted with a mind-blowing blow job.  But that was all!  Afterwards, all clothing remained on and Tavena gently sent Ted off to his parent’s house at the normal time.  For now, that little intimacy remained a one-time event.

No, it wasn’t the stuff that romance novels are made from, but both Ted and Tavena gradually came to understand that they were on the road to becoming a couple.  It just took their relationship a while to arrive at that inevitable destination.  They had finally gained mutual respect.  From there, the couple progressed to a genuine deep friendship, which morphed into a gentle love, which ultimately exploded into passion and frequent shared intimacy.

It was during this early period of intimacy that the couple learned the value of a “good girl” spanking.  Not as hard as a real punishment spanking, these relieved Tavena’s tensions and frustrations, while at the same time leaving them both hot!  

Along the way, Tavena graduated from job training and was hired as an apprentice.  Her new skills, and the paycheck that went with them, forever changed her opinion of herself and her prospects in life. 

A few months later, the house was finally ready for Ted to permanently move in.  By then, all talk of Tavena and Chanita moving out had long ceased.  Soon they made it official.  With a trip to the courthouse, Ted and Tavena became man and wife.  Chanita suddenly had a father!  Eventually, Chanita also gained a brown little brother.  Ted’s parents quickly swallowed their objections and became doting grandparents.

So it didn’t happen quite the way that Ted’s parents had planned, but Ted’s family had finally moved back into the neighborhood. 

© Guyspencer 2014

Tuesday, April 08, 2014

Girls Get Into Trouble Too F/f

© Guyspencer 2014
Girls Get Into Trouble Too

Old Mrs Clymer didn’t want to do it, but Susan had really given her no choice.  When a kid explodes and then calls you a “blue haired bitch” in front of the whole class, there’s really no going back.  Mrs Clymer knew Susan as a normally sweet girl, but one with a quick temper.  There had been a simple misunderstanding, which had led to Susan “flying off the handle”.  In five minutes, Susan would be cooled down and thinking rationally again, but it would be too late.  She would still be in serious trouble!

Sure enough!  By the time Susan had gotten to the Principal’s office with the referral form in her trembling hand, she had calmed down and realized that the entire matter had been her own fault.  She had allowed herself to assume the wrong thing, and then “blew up” without bothering to think it through.

Susan handed the dreaded referral form to the school secretary, who looked at her oddly before directing her to a hard bench outside Mr. Helm’s office.  The secretary knocked on the principal’s door, and then entered to give him the form.

In his office, Mr. Helm looked at the form in surprise.  Most of the students who were referred to him for discipline were boys.  However, even without testosterone to help them do stupid things,  girls get into trouble too.  Even nice girls like Susan Gilbert get into trouble.

These days, Mr. Helm often felt frustrated or helpless when dealing with problem students.  It seems that the district board had outlawed paddling just a few months ago, undermining his authority by leaving detentions as his primary disciplinary option.  Some students just laughed at detentions, so the Principal had noted a distinct increase in disciplinary problems.  Obviously, some students were no longer afraid of him.

In the case of Susan Gilbert, Mr. Helm had no such worries.  He knew her parents.  Susan’s mother was a teacher at a local elementary school, and her father was a professor at the local community college.  He saw them at various professional education functions, and they always spoke to him.  Both parents had firmly assured him that he would always have their full support, “You’re no longer allowed to paddle her, but we certainly can!”

Mr. Helms allowed Susan to stew on the bench outside his office, as he composed and then sent a lengthy E-mail to Susan’s parents.  In addition, he printed a copy of the message to send home with Susan.  Then he finally called her in.

Susan was surprised to find the Principal’s lecture fairly muted, but then she realized why!  “Since they are both teachers, I’m sure that your parents will take your behavior very seriously.  Take this letter to your parents.  Return tomorrow morning before class with their written response.  Then I’ll decide if I need to take further action.”

Naturally, Susan begged the Principal to not involve her parents, but found him implacable.  He dismissed her, telling her to return to class. 

By then it was the second period, halfway through the morning.  Somehow Susan made it to lunchtime.  Rather than eat, she searched out Mrs Clymer, and found her in her room.  It was hard to face her after her earlier behavior, but Susan apologized.  The lady graciously forgave her, and then Susan found herself crying on her shoulder.  “You have always been one of my best students Susan, but you left me with no choice this morning.” 

“I know,” Susan sobbed, “It was all my fault.”

“Even though I’ve forgiven you,” Mrs Clymer said carefully, “the consequences of your behavior are out of my hands.  I’m afraid you’re still in trouble.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” sniffed Susan, “Mr. Helms is sending a letter to my parents.  I’m going to get spanked for sure!”

Mrs Clymer squeezed the girl, “I’m sorry honey, but surely they will be fair and you’ll survive whatever your consequences are.” 


While enjoying a quiet lunch in her classroom, Susan’s mother checked her e-mail.  She nearly choked on her sandwich when she read the message from the Principal.  “That sounds like something a boy would do,” she thought.  “Oh well” she shrugged, “Girls get into trouble too.”

Shortly later, a second e-mail came in from Mrs Clymer describing Susan’s apology.  “That sounds more like my Susan,” thought mother as she relaxed slightly, “but she still needs to be punished!”     


The afternoon had been hell for Susan, but finally her school day was over.  It was almost a relief to go straight home to face her mother.  It helped that her mother already knew the whole story.  Still, the lady carefully asked for Susan’s side, and then scolded her when she was sure of her facts.  Although Susan was desperate for the lecture to end, it was no relief when her mother finally delivered her verdict.  “I had hoped we were done with sort of thing Susan, but you can expect a memorable spanking when your father gets home.  Don’t expect to sit comfortably for the next few days.”

It had been almost a year since Susan’s last spanking, but the procedure was etched into her brain!  In her home, spankings were a pants-off, bare bottom affair.  Susan also knew that there was no point in attempting to beg, argue, or otherwise try to wheedle out of her punishment.

However, there was one issue that she raised with her mother.  She said it tearfully, just as the reality of her pending spanking was sinking into her psyche, “It’s been almost a year since daddy has seen me like--you know--like that.  There have been some changes since then mommy!  Mommy, can’t you spank me?  Can’t it be just between us girls?”

Mother thought carefully before speaking.  Susan had actually brought up a cogent point.  But, Mother’s main concern was more about her husband’s comfort than about reducing Susan’s embarrassment.  She remembered how embarrassed he had been the last time he had spanked Susan.  But Susan’s body had certainly flowered since then!  Besides, he had an evening class to teach.  That made a very long day for him.  When he finally got home, he would desperately want to sit and unwind.  He certainly wouldn’t be happy about facing that certain distasteful fatherly duty. 

Yes, mother was thinking more about her husband’s comfort than her daughter’s, but there was no reason to share that reasoning with Susan!

Finally mother spoke, “You’re not trying to get off with a lighter punishment are you Susan?”

Susan shook her head violently.  “No mommy, I know that you can spank really hard when you want to.”

“And if I do this, you will do your best to cooperate and to take your punishment like a lady?”

With hope in her eyes, Susan nodded her agreement.

“So you agree that you deserve a hard spanking, a spanking so hard that it will hurt you to sit down for the next few days?”

Susan’s reply was sober yet distinctly less enthusiastic, “Y...yes mommy”

“Shall we go to my bedroom and do it right now?”

Susan’s heart rate accelerated and she felt a sudden urge to pee, but she didn’t back down, “Yes mommy.  I’m really, really sorry for what I did, and I’d like to get my punishment over with.”

With that, Susan felt a firm hand on her arm.  For the first time in nearly a year she was escorted to her parent’s bedroom for punishment.

Normally Susan could expect at least a few minutes of bare bottom corner time before a spanking, but her mother had thought of a creative variation.  She pointed to the exact center of her bed, “Fold up your pants neatly, and then place them right there.”

Unspoken, was that Susan would first need to remove those pants!  She kicked off her shoes, and then slid them under the bed where they would be out of the way.  Reluctantly, Susan unbuttoned her pants, stepped out of them, folded them, and then placed them in the required spot on the bed.

“Now your panties.”

With a bit more reluctance, Susan removed her panties, folded the filmy things in half, and then placed them on top of her folded pants.  Now the girl was wearing only her bra and her blouse.

“Do you remember where to find the hairbrush?”

Soberly, Susan nodded.

“Get it, and then lay it on top of your panties.”

As usual, that “special” hairbrush was in the top middle drawer of her parent’s dresser.  Obediently, Susan fetched it, and then laid it on top of her little pile of clothing.
Mother pointed Susan to a spot in the middle of the bedroom floor, and then faced her towards the bed, where she couldn’t help but see that little pile of clothing crowned with the hairbrush. 

“OK Susan, I want you to stand right here and do some serious thinking.  I want you to think about why you aren’t wearing those clothes, and what that hairbrush is about to feel like on your bare bottom.  And then I want you to think about what you did to get yourself into this position.  But I especially want you to think about what you should have done differently, because I’ll be asking you about that.  OK?”

With tears flowing down her cheeks, Susan squeaked, “Yes mommy”.

Mother stepped back to watch her daughter.  Although she honestly hated to spank her, she had to admit that standing there prepared for her punishment, Susan made a fetching sight. 
At nearly seventeen, Susan’s body was leaving behind the thin coltishness of her early teens, and flowering into that of a fully-formed woman.  Mother noticed that Susan’s snug blouse accentuated her curves.  The blouse’s upper buttons were only slightly strained by Susan’s modest but attractive breasts.  Moving down, the blouse complimented her flat stomach and tiny waist before flaring to accommodate the swell caused by her voluptuously curving hips and buttocks.  Mother frowned when she noticed that the blouse’s hem hung inconveniently low for today’s purpose.  In the front, only the lowest tuft of curly hair was visible.  Today though, Susan’s rear view was more important.  That blouse concealed and protected all but the lowest curves of Susan’s temporarily pristine bottom cheeks.   

“Oh well.” mother decided, “we will deal with that later.”


Leaving the bedroom door wide open, mother quietly left.  She would indulge in a cup of tea and some decompression time while Susan uncomfortably contemplated the error of her ways.

As she sipped her tea, she exchanged texts with her husband, who was between classes.  She had earlier copied him on the two e-mails from school, and had received a response from him agreeing that she should be spanked.  When he heard that she would go ahead and spank Susan before he came home, he was palpably grateful.  He had been dreading spanking his “little angel”, especially after such a long workday.

Happy that her husband was OK with what she was doing, Mother finished her tea, took a deep breath, and headed for her bedroom.


Mother eased herself back into her bedroom, and was pleased to find Susan standing exactly where she had left her.  She saw tears on Susan’s cheeks, and knew that Susan’s solitary time had had its desired effect.  Susan was now in the proper frame of mind to learn a lesson.  However, Susan’s “instruction” wouldn’t all be of the painful variety.

Susan jumped when mother spoke, “You will need to unbutton that blouse so I can lift it up in back.”

Fumbling a bit with the buttons, Susan obeyed.  As she worked at the buttons, mother walked past her, sat on the edge of the bed, and looked her straight in the eye, “Tell me why you are about to be spanked.”

Stammering a bit, Susan gave an acceptable description of the behavior that gotten her into trouble.

“Now tell me what you should have done differently.  What  would have saved you from the sore bottom you’re about to get?”

“If...if I had just waited until after class to talk to Mrs Clymer privately, none of this would have happened.  In fact, by then I probably would have cooled off and then figured it out for myself so I wouldn’t have even needed to ask her about it.”

“That’s an excellent answer,” mother agreed, “So what really happened is that you let your temper get out of control.”

Susan nodded sadly.

Mother continued, “There is a limit to what a parent can accomplish with a spanking.  I’m about to give you a very sore bottom, but that won’t take away your temper.  It will still flare up!  It’s easy to recognize when that happens, because your heart rate increases and your breathing will change.  Some people even claim to see red!  What you must do is learn to recognize it, and then delay acting until your mind returns to rational thought.  That can happen very quickly.  The usual advice is to count to ten before you say or do anything, but a full minute is safer.  Understand?”

Susan nodded, and mother somehow got the impression that the girl really did “get it”.

“What we can’t do is take away what you did in class.  You disrupted your class, and called Mrs. Clymer a rude name.  Mrs. Clymer is a nice person and she did nothing to deserve that.”

“I know,” Susan sobbed, “that’s why I apologized to her.”

“Yes you did,” mother agreed in a milder voice, “and I am proud of that.  It was exactly the right thing to do.”

Mother reached for the hairbrush, and held it out to Susan, “We can’t ‘put the genie back it the bottle’.  You did what you did, so we must punish you for your behavior.  But we can put this hairbrush back in the drawer.  I think you’ve earned that much for apologizing to Mrs Clymer and I can do a good enough job without it.”

With tears of relief in her eyes, Susan walked across the bedroom to replace the hairbrush in its drawer.  Then she returned, and looked at her mother expectantly.

“So do you have any questions about why you are being punished or anything else you wish to discuss before we proceed?”

“No, I guess not mommy.”

Mother patted her lap as she spoke, “Then let’s start so we can get this unpleasant business finished.”

With a sob, Susan put herself across her mother’s lap.  Mother had sat back on the bed, so that Susan was laying on the bed with her bottom raised by her mother’s lap.  Mother gave her a pillow and advised her to hug it.  Then she raised the back of Susan’s blouse and tucked it under her bra strap, rendering her bare from her bra down.  In unhappy anticipation of what was about to come, Susan scrunched her nether buns together   

The “lesson”that followed was loud, painful, and memorable, but not nearly as bad as it could have been.  By the time Susan’s father arrived home from work, Susan was mostly recovered.  After a cry and a long cuddle with her mother, she still had time to shower and dress in her pajamas before their late supper.  Life in the Gilbert household had returned to normal.


There was just one part of Susan’s “punishment” remaining.  The next morning Susan stood before Mr. Helms and blushed furiously as he read the note from her mother explaining that she had been spanked for her misbehavior in class.

Satisfied, the Principal simply sent Susan on to class. 

Yes, girls can get into trouble, but they can also learn from it.

© Guyspencer 2014