Scenes of Domestic Discipline: Book 3 Read online

  Advice

  I gave my details to the receptionist then paid the fee and sat down to wait. There were several of us sitting waiting to see one of the two consultants but nobody spoke; we all just sat lost in our own thoughts. Soon I was called in to see someone. He was middle-aged, not terribly fit in appearance (he could have lost a little weight and done some exercise) but he was kindly looking with a pleasant smile.

  "Now, you are worried about your daughter, Betty, and seek our advice. Perhaps you'd like to just outline the problem for me."

  I explained how Betty had become rude and difficult, not doing anything I told her. She wouldn't do her jobs or her homework, was always in trouble at school and stayed out quite late without permission.

  "Oh dear, and how long has this been going on?"

  "About a year now. It started when she was just about fourteen. She was more than OK until she was about twelve, then she started sort of flouncing and slamming doors every now and then but we still got on very well until a year ago when it really got bad. I don't think she's doing drugs or anything but there is definitely drink and smoking and we have terrible rows. She goes out but I don't know where she is, and she comes back really late sometimes, like one in the morning, and won't tell me where she's been."

  "So what is it you want from us?"

  "Well I've bought a wooden-backed hairbrush and I want to know if I should start spanking her. I've read that a lot of American parents spank so I thought... well, why not, nothing else is working."

  "I see. A couple of questions first. What have you tried?"

  "Grounding... but that didn't work she just went out anyway and we screamed at each other when she came back. Extra jobs, but she doesn't even do her regular ones. You should see her room... it's like the council rubbish tip. I tried stopping her pocket money but she seems to get it from somewhere else. I think she may have stolen it from me."

  "I see, and did you used to spank her?"

  "Not spank exactly, no. I used to smack her hard on the bottom. Anywhere between one and, say, six smacks but not like a spanking... you know, putting her over my knee and really doing it properly. My mum and dad spanked me like that but I didn't do it with Betty."

  "And when did that smacking stop?"

  "About when she was ten I think... around that time."

  "I see. I don't think that starting to spank her will work. I think it is too late for that. She is quite likely to resist and you'll end up fighting not spanking her, besides she's quite likely to report you, although she won't understand the consequences for her, and that really isn't desirable."

  "So you can't help me."

  He smiled broadly, spread his hands wide and asked, "Did I say that? No of course we can, though it is not an easy solution but one that has worked very well for other mums. But you've not mentioned a husband or partner."

  "He died," I replied, my voice was flat, "when Betty was about four."

  "I'm sorry. Boyfriends?"

  "No, I have never really bothered; I was too busy working and looking after Betty."

  "What about your father?"

  "Heart condition, besides wouldn't Betty fight him just as much as me?"

  He simply smiled broadly and asked, "Any men in your life that you like and respect?"

  "Oh yes, Bob. He's my brother-in-law. Lives the other side of town. He would do anything for us. Adores Betty... he's worried as well."

  I didn't tell him that Bob was unmarried and that I suspected he wanted me to marry him but was too diffident to ask. I was very fond of him but... well I don't know. You know what it's like you just keep putting off talking about it and the years pass by. He asked me some questions about Bob and then he began to outline his plan. My mouth was open through most of it but he kept talking, and in the end he persuaded me. When he'd finished, he handed me his card to contact him at any time of day or night and my free gift. It looked like a hairbrush without any bristles.

  "We recommend this for anyone that spanks. It is more effective than the hand and less nasty than a real hairbrush. It's thin and light and has a wicked sting but won't leave that deep bruising a hairbrush does."

  I popped the 'hairbrush' in my bag and took myself off to see Bob to explain the plan to him. He had a key role in it and without him we couldn't proceed. Bob was equally amazed by the plan but to my surprise was all up for it. He was worried sick about Betty and concerned for me and promptly told me he would come and stay with us using the spare room.

  "I can't easily do this from the other side of town and anyway it will be more effective if I am there all the time."

  Bob and I took a couple of weeks off work, and he moved in early the next morning. The spare room is small but he was cheerful. Betty looked bewildered and we told her there were going to be some changes and her behaviour had to improve. She sneered and left for school slamming the door; she was going to be late of course but that had become normal for her. At least she was going.

  When she came back, very late really for being at school, she was in trouble. She had two detentions: one for persistent lateness and another for 'exceptional rudeness' to one of her teachers. There was also a letter from her head of year asking me to go in and discuss her "poor homework record." Bob swung into action.

  "Oh dear, Betty, that is all very serious. In my new role, standing in for your late father my brother, I'm afraid that a serious spanking is now due followed by some corner time."

  He produced the little 'hairbrush' thingy and Betty shouted loudly. I've edited her words but you can imagine what she really said.

  "You're not touching me with that thing, you can forget it. You come near me with that and after kicking you where it hurts, I'll call the police."

  Bob pretended shock. "Really, Betty, such language, but of course it's not for you. I intend to spank your mum. She has clearly failed dismally as a mother judging by your ghastly behaviour, attitude and language. Come over to me, Ann, we'll use the sofa."

  Now at this point I became distinctly reluctant to go. The plan had seemed amazing when I first heard it but now faced with baring my bum for Bob and then having my bottom spanked good and hard, it seemed like a horrible idea. However, the advice had been that it would help Betty so I had to try. While Betty watched, her sneer lost, replaced instead with stunned astonishment, I removed my skirt, tights and knickers and stood with scarlet burning face (Bob had never seen me like that) in front of him while he scolded me for failing to deal with Betty's bad behaviour. Then he pulled me down and over his lap with my upper body on the sofa and my feet on the floor.

  From the very first smack of that 'hairbrush' I wanted him to stop. Hell, that thing stings. It was like having an electric shock. I yelped and jerked but within a second, smack came another. I jerked and yelped all over again but there was no rest, no chance to ease the sting of the first two, that bloody 'hairbrush' kept smacking down on my bare bottom. I was not a stoical woman; you'd have thought I was having a bloody baby the racket I made and Bob, strong though he is, had quite a job holding me in position. He did it in spite of my best efforts to scramble off his lap or get my bum out of the way of that 'hairbrush' and in the end I was so exhausted I just lay there whimpering as he turned my bottom into a raging conflagration that only a flood would have cooled.

  When he had finished spanking me, he helped me to stand and dried my tears for me before guiding me into a corner. I caught sight of Betty, all teenage strop was gone and she looked deeply unhappy. My heart soared and my sore bottom suddenly felt a lot better. I stood with burning bot and hands on head for ten minutes, but Betty went off to her room without a word. She didn't slam the door I noticed.

  The next day was Friday and my bottom was still sore. They said that hairbrush didn't bruise like a proper one but my bum was still well and truly marked and I had felt it all night long. I had the usual difficulty getting Betty up to go to school, and although she wasn't as rude as usual, she was still surly. She had one detention that day and
the other was next week. I told her she had better do it.

  "Or what?"

  "Or I get another spanking."

  She spat out, "Bloody stupid," and smashed out of the house but when I rang the school that afternoon she was in the detention room and quietly doing whatever it was they set them.

  She came back home and without a word went to her room. Later, she came out dressed up and said she was going out.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Out."

  "Yes, but where?"

  "To meet my friends."

  "To do what?"

  "Hang out. I dunno, we'll have to see."

  "Well your absolute latest time to be in is eleven o'clock."

  "What! It's Friday night. What are you, Miss Puritan Mummy of the Year or something?"

  "You're fifteen only. That is a generous curfew. Keep to it."

  "Or what? Oh wait, don't tell me, you get spanked?"

  "Correct."

  Betty said nothing, just glared at me and went out of the door, but the slamming was relatively mild for her. Bob and I tried hard to just chill out with some wine and the TV but we kept looking at the clock. At around ten-thirty I got so nervous about Betty I had to do something, so bizarrely I got ready for bed. I put on my singlet pyjama top with the long bottoms and my dressing gown over and came back. It was nearly eleven. Would Betty come in or would she do as she had been doing for months and arrive back in the early hours? Needless to say she didn't come in at eleven. I sighed and guessed she would come in even later to prove her independence or some such nonsense but I was wrong.

  At eleven-thirty Betty came back in and Bob swung into action, relieved to be doing something other than wait. "You're late Betty. You were told eleven max and it's now half past."

  "But..."

  "No buts. Eleven isn't a target for you to meet it's a maximum time. You've broken your curfew. I'm afraid a spanking is due."

  I took my dressing gown off and walked over to Bob who sat on the sofa. Suddenly, Betty interrupted.

  "Hang on, this is silly. I'm the one who is late, not mum."

  "Yes indeed, but you are a minor and you're mother is the adult in charge. She has failed to enforce her rule so she must be punished. I shall spank her."

  "Oh for fuck's sake! OK, bloody well spank me then. You spanked her black and blue yesterday, she can't have another."

  Bob smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Betty, spanking you would be illegal. I can spank your mother because she is an adult and has given me a blanket consent to do so, but you are a minor and other than the odd smack, and I am sure you're too old for that, spanking is illegal."

  Having said that, he yanked my pyjama bottoms down and began spanking me all over again. My bum was already sore from the previous spanking so this one felt a hundred times worse, and I screamed and sobbed throughout it until I thought my bottom would never be cool again. He made no attempt to spare me. It was a full on grade A spanking which he kept on with until I was sobbing exhausted over his lap, all resistance gone again.

  When he had dried my tears and was about to make me stand in the corner, I glanced sideways at Betty. She looked stricken and white faced with very wet eyes. That eased my horrible smarting bottom more than a little. This time, Betty stayed until my corner time was over; she watched me pull my pyjama bottoms up and then without a word she went to bed.

  Bob and I were up early the next morning. I wanted to give the house a good clean and do some shopping, and Bob liked to go for an early morning run. He'd come back and I was sitting uncomfortably on one of the kitchen chairs having breakfast with him (we have a kitchen-diner and no dining room) when Betty came down already dressed. I looked at her in astonishment. If it's not a school day the morning hasn't seen her for at least a year. She grabbed tea and a slice of toast and, without a word, sat down. When she'd finished, again without a word, she got up and went to her room. A wee bit later she came in and asked if I had any dustbin bags. I gave her some and this time Bob and I gave it a couple of minutes and went to her room. Betty had her back to us and was busy cleaning. We sneaked away quietly.

  Back in the kitchen, Bob put a cushion on my chair with an apologetic grin, but before I sat down he kissed me. I didn't resist. We sat quietly waiting to see what would happen.

  After a long while, Betty came down and said in a very grumpy, surly way, "I've cleaned my room."

  We went to look. To be honest I could have found fault with her cleaning but of course I have more sense. Compared with the muck heap it had been it was a show room and I praised her and she let me hug her for the first time in ages.

  What happened after that? Well she didn't become Little Miss Perfect or anything but she improved a huge amount. We kept to the plan though and I've been over Bob's lap six times since then but only for mild spankings as what she had done wasn't so bad. She keeps pleading for him to spank her instead but we won't do it, but she does take me out of the corner, puts her hands on her head and does my corner time for me, bottom clothed of course. I'm pleased to have my daughter back again, Bob is delighted and the school is amazed at the transformation. Oh and Bob has asked me to marry him and I've said yes, with Betty's approval of course.

  The only thing worrying me is that Bob says when we are married he will spank me for my own bad behaviour not just Betty's. The trouble is I don't know if he is teasing me or not.

  A Spanking Shared

  I ran around to see Sue because she'd had way too much to drink when Brian and I crashed there the other night. I knew she had a dreadful hangover the next day and really I wasn't surprised. She had been really silly and had even smacked me with a coat hanger for being cheeky or something. I pushed open the kitchen door and realised that I had barged in on something; she was with Ken. He is a foreigner from the States - New "Joisy" or something like that. They looked very serious, or rather it was Ken that looked serious. Sue looked ... well the only word I can use is 'ashamed'. "Oh! I'm sorry," I said, "am I interrupting?"

  Sue immediately made sure that we were introduced and I said, "We're at number 8" and waved my hand in the direction. He said, "Round the corner, the white cottage. Good to meet you."

  "I only called because you were very well slaughtered the other night. I just wanted to check that you were all right," I explained, "but if I'm intruding..."

  Sue pulled a wry face and explained that they had just been talking about her performance. I couldn't quite see what it had to do with Ken and it must have shown in my face because suddenly Sue launched into the most breathtaking explanation. It was really not like Sue, who is usually very gregarious, but a closed book on personal matters. I could see that Ken wanted to stop her but Sue just opened the floodgates and let rip. "The fact is, Clare," she began. "Ken is my mentor and I have an agreement and targets that I am trying to meet. One of them is not getting sozzled and I have already broken it twice before."

  I looked at her and at Ken and began to think that there was a lot more to this relationship than I had at first thought. If I didn't know Sue better I would have said she had a 'thing' about this man. "Well," I exclaimed, "you did get sozzled. So now what happens?"

  "I get spanked," Sue told me quietly, "and I was just about to hear what my punishment is to be."

  I am not noted for being quiet and both Brian (my husband) and Sue call me Tigger because I bounce so much and cause catastrophe wherever I go. This time I was shocked into total silence. When I recovered the power of speech I launched into a long and noisy protest that it was outrageous for Ken to spank her - after all, it was the 21st Century. Sue just calmly explained that this is what she wanted and that Ken was helping her, that an agreement had been made and there was no good stopping it at the uncomfortable bit. Ken was clearly uneasy with Sue's frankness and obviously worried about how far the news would travel, but I told him the secret was safe with me. Sue has been good for me and I think of her as an older sister.

  Ken explained that Sue had agreed not to get drunk but had
, that she had agreed a spanking would happen if she did, and that was what they were about to discuss. I am used to engaging mouth before brain but even I shocked myself at what I said next.

  "Sue and Ken, this isn't right. I am at least halfway responsible for causing Sue to get sizzled; if you won't stop the spanking, at least let me share it. Ken, why don't you give me half the smacks or whatever instead of all of them to Sue?" Immediately I said it I wondered what I had done and what I might have got myself into. Sue was very against this arrangement. Anyone would think she liked being spanked! Ken was more open-minded and there was quite a bit of chat before eventually Sue said that I should hear what the punishment was first, before taking half of it.

  "That's right," said Ken. "Let us all know what we are talking about. Sue, I planned to give you a four minute hand spanking. By the way, Clare, everything is on the bare bottom. Then it is twenty with the back of the hair brush on each bottom cheek, followed by twenty with my belt."

  I was stunned. I thought we were talking about a few smacks with the hand! However, I am not someone who goes back on their word and I said (wondering what the Dickens I was doing) that I would take half of that as it was partly my fault. Well it really was you know! Sue was strongly against this idea, and it was Ken who came up with a solution. He suggested that he give Sue half of her hand spanking and if I wanted to step in at that point well fine. He felt that I was right and did have some responsibility. Sue agreed, reluctantly, and they started to get ready.

  I was more than a little surprised when Sue, who is so modest, just took off her jeans and knickers without a second thought. Ken had pulled out a kitchen chair and sat in it. Without a word, Sue placed herself across his lap. I was fascinated; I had never been spanked and had never seen anyone spanked. He was quite methodical, he didn't just start smacking her but smacked one cheek first then the other and then right across. I couldn't take my eyes off the spanking; my mouth had gone dry and I was conscious that my whole body was still. Sue has a trim figure and is very fit, but even so, her bottom rippled when Ken smacked it. Yes, really, that is the word. That smooth bottom rippled, and as I watched, her bottom started to turn pink and gradually red. At first Sue really didn't seem to react to the steady stream of smacks even if her skin did, but then I noticed that her legs were moving at each smack. Every now and then one leg would lift up and stay there for a second and she had started to make little "uh" and "ah" noises.