Wednesday, 17 September 2014

'Den Mother'

Kimberley mentioned a Seegee story in her update. I'd actually thought I'd already posted it, but I hadn't in the rush to go away. I know it's been read by some of you at the LSF, but for those who are yet to see it here is, Denmother, a tale of naughty boys in days gone by.

Cubs camping out.

Fun times around the campfire.

And canoeing. It's all fun until someone falls in!

Donald Simpson smiled as he watched his grandson Gordon parade proudly around the living room in his brand new cubs outfit for the entertainment and amusement of his parents, grandparents, assorted aunts and uncles and cousins.

“He looks so cute,” one of the boy’s aunts said to his mother, and the woman smiled and nodded.

‘How long do you give him before gets the uniform dirty?” one of the uncles asked with a broad wink.

“First time he sees a tree that just needs to be climbed,” Donald gave his opinion, and as Gordon went past him, lifted off his cap and ruffled the boy’s hair fondly.

“Grampa!” Gordon protested, his cheeks colouring at the affectionate movement and searching for his cap.

“Dad!” the child’s mother scolded, snatching the cap from her father-in-law and placing it back on her son’s head.

“Just a bit of fun, eh, Gordy?” Donald said to the boy, who laughed at his grandfather.

“Have to get used to the other kids doing it,” Gordon’s father said. “Taking and hiding other cubs caps was a game with us.”

Donald chuckled as he thought back to his own days as a cub. Some things never changed through the generations it seemed. “I bet you weren’t spanked the way your father was, Derek,” Donald’s wife, Martha, said to her son.

“No, but we also didn’t have a female Akela,” Derek pointed out.

“A female Akela?” Sarah, Donald’s daughter-in-law asked. “Is there such a thing?”

Derek nodded. “Dad had one, didn’t you, Dad?”

Donald nodded. “She didn’t call herself Akela either, she preferred Bagheera. No one ever argued with her, though. She wasn’t a woman to cross.”

“Not if you didn’t want to get spanked!” Martha laughed, sipping her coffee.

Donald shrugged. “Just how it was back then. She never gave one that wasn’t deserved, and I’m sure of few us missed some we should have had.”


Donald Simpson let his mother push his woggle up the scarf adorned with the stripes that denoted his cub pack. “Now you’ll be good for Mrs Galea, won’t you, Donny?” the boy’s mother asked him.

“Mrs Galea?” Donald asked, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

“Oh yes!” his mother exclaimed. “You call Betty something else there, don’t you?”

“Bagheera,” the boy supplied the name that his pack leader went by. “The panther in The Jungle Book.”

“Such a strange name,” the woman said, shaking her head and smiling.

“No, it’s not, Mum,” Donald argued. “The Leaders all have Jungle Book names.”

“And what is your jungle name?” the lady teased her son.

Donald blushed and confessed. “I don’t get one yet.”

“What about if you become a fiver?” she asked.

The boy rolled his eyes and sighed. “Sixer, Mum. It’s a sixer. Only grown ups get Jungle Book names.”

“In my day the only sixer we had was what the head gave the naughty boys and girls with his strap.”

Daniel Simpson shook his head as he watched the banter between his son and wife. Helen knew most of the terms, when Donny had first joined the Cubs, she’d gone through the terms with him, as he had also been a Cub and later a Scout. She was doing this just to tease the boy, Donald knew it too, but he liked to play games like this with his mother and he was precocious enough to enjoy showing off his knowledge of something that he thought his parents didn’t totally understand.

“Come on Donny,” Daniel said. “We better get you in the car, sport otherwise we’ll be late.”

“Don’t forget this!” Helen called after her son, tossing his cap at him as he ran down the hall to jump in the car.


It was hard not to like the boy’s Leader Bagheera or Betty Galea, as the other mothers in the neighbourhood knew her. She was a good natured, maternal woman of Maltese descent. She was very community minded. She had first come in contact with the local Cub pack when her oldest son joined. He was now a member of the Rovers, the 18 and over branch of the Scouts. Her middle son had just entered the Venturers and her youngest boy was also looking at following in his two older brother’s footsteps and entering the Venturers and the Rovers.

Initially Betty just helped out and provided snacks for the boys, bit by bit she became more involved and started to help organize activities and assist the boys in getting their merit badges, then accompanying them on field trips and camping excursions. When the Akela had to step down to take a job interstate, none of the other adult assistants, mostly the fathers of boys, could take on the mantle due to work and/or social other sporting commitments. As Betty’s boys were all in the Scouts by then, and she didn’t work full time (she worked two days a week on the check out of a local supermarket) Betty offered to become the Akela, her only stipulation was that she kept her original name of Bagheera.

Back then there weren’t many women involved in the Scout movement at any level. Girls were Brownies and later Guides, and their mothers helped out as assistants, but Betty didn’t have any daughters, only three sons, so there was no place for her in the Brownies of the Guides. She tended to get on better with boys in any case and she’d been quite the tomboy when she was a young girl. The Cubs were constantly surprised at how well she could do ‘boy things’ like tie knots. Bagheera was a bit of an oddity, it did rather annoy her that she had had to adopt a male character name, too.

Until he read The Jungle Book after his time in the Cubs, Donald Simpson had been unaware that Bagheera the panther was a male. He’d never been able to reconcile it and watching the Disney animated version of The Jungle Book with British actor Sebastian Cabot voicing the panther always seemed odd to him. As far as he was concerned Bagheera was a warm, motherly character.

For as long as she’d been one of the pack’s assistants Bagheera had taken on a maternal role with the boys, firstly her own boys and then most of the young men in the pack. She regarded them all as ‘her boys’ and she treated them accordingly.

Baking was one of the things she liked to do, and she often brought cookies, cakes and muffins to the meetings for the boys and the assistants to share at the end of the meeting. Many of the male assistants tended to have a ‘boys will be boys’ approach to discipline and allowed the cubs to get away with more than Bagheera suspected they were allowed to at home, certainly at her home.

With her own boys she wasn’t afraid to scold or even administer a swift, sharp smack or two to the seat of their pants or their bare legs when she thought things had gone too far, often with the threat of more to come when they got home. The Akela when the woman first joined the pack let things go too far in her opinion, only stepping in if it looked like something was becoming dangerous.

As Bagheera grew in her role she gained more confidence, and the boys respected her words more. Mostly it only took a scolding, but some cubs were tougher nuts than others to crack and she had to get more creative with those ones. It was not unknown for misbehaving cubs to have to stand facing the wall at the end of the evening for some misbehavior or other and be denied the cookies, cakes or muffins that their ‘den mother’ had made and brought to share.

In extreme cases, those involving dangerous foolishness, corporal punishment was called for. Donald had never personally experienced that, but boys talked to each other. If Bagheera knew the parents spanked she spoke to them when they came to collect their offspring and received an assurance that the cub would be put to bed with a hot sore bottom that evening. It hadn’t happened with Donald and his parents didn’t really spank as such. His mother had given him the occasional swat with a wooden spoon, and his Dad a smack sometimes, he’d been threatened with the belt once, but his father had not had to follow through as the threat was enough to make the boy alter his behaviour.

When parents weren’t really spankers like Donald’s, but didn’t actually have a problem with corporal punishment Bagheera had another tack she took. Back in those days not everyone had mobile phones, but the scout hall had a payphone for when it was needed. Bagheera would contact the boy’s parents, explain the situation, ask if she could deal with it in her own way and once she received permission did just that.

In deference to the ages of the cubs – they tended to range from between 8 – 12 – the meetings broke up at around 8 in the evening. Bagheera would put a rather apprehensive young man into her car and take him to her home. Once there she would escort him upstairs into her bedroom, sit on the bed, scold him at length about what he’d done, remove his shorts and underpants, drape him over her lap and administer a long and thorough spanking until the naughty young bottom glowed red, was hot to the touch and the recipient was crying tears of genuine contrition. Mostly she only used her hand, but stories were also told about a small paddle and the back of a hairbrush. She allowed the boy to cool down in the corner, replaced his underpants and shorts then cuddled him and soothed him on her lap before delivering him home. The matter was forgiven and forgotten after that. It happened to maybe 5 or 6 of the 20 or so boys who comprised the pack over the course of a year and she rarely had repeat customers.


That was with their normal weekly meetings at least, Donald reminisced. The annual camp was a different thing. The cubs regularly went on field trips. These took place on the weekends and were all day affairs. Supervising 20 excited young boys on events like taking a vintage steam train, a day at the beach or visiting a retired naval warship was not an easy task. Bagheera generally recruited from the parents, mostly Dads, to help her out, and whatever of her regular assistants could spare the time to come. On a couple of occasions, Paula, her oldest son’s girlfriend, had also come along. The girl wanted to work in teaching and found this useful for her future aspirations. Amusingly enough she also called her boyfriend’s mother Bagheera, rather than Mrs Galea.

The camp was different again. It was a big deal and every kid in the pack desperately wanted to go. They camped out in tents at a designated campsite and everyone who went said it was not to be missed. For many of the boys it would be the first time they ever spent more than a night away from home and their first proper camping experience, outside of a sleepover in a tent pitched in someone’s backyard. Some lucky boys had families who went camping over their holidays, but this experience of being with your friends in a cub pack just smacked of adventure, and was very desirable.

Because the camp lasted for four days not everyone could afford the time, and Bagheera was generally the only one who could go. She had been assisted by her oldest boy in the past, although as he had recently started full time work, he couldn’t attend Donald’s first camp. However Paula went in his stead. His mother needed the help, she got along well with the boys and it was a good experience for her.


“You’re sure you want to do this, Donny?” Donald’s mother asked as she looked over the permission slip for the camp.

“Mum! Of course!” the boy said. “Dad’s signed.”

“Daniel?” Helen asked her husband.

“It’ll be good for him,” Daniel Simpson said. “I did it when I was his age, it’s great fun.”

“It says here that they’ll be doing their own cooking,” Helen said, her top teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Daniel laughed. “They’ll help with the cooking. Can you imagine Betty Galea letting twenty kids cook for themselves? She’ll make sure they’re fed, actually overfed, if I know here. The kids will mostly watch and learn.”

“She also says that if they need to be punished she’ll handle it.” Helen pointed out.

“So?’ Daniel shrugged.

“You know she’s a spanker?”

“Well, if Donny doesn’t want a smacked bum he’ll just have to do what he’s told, won’t he?” was Daniel’s response to that.

“Mum, please! I’ll behave!” Donald begged.

“Very well, young man,” Helen said, signing her name and handing the form back to her son. “I better hear only good things when you get home, though.”

“You will, Mum,” Donald assured his mother.


Twenty, fresh faced, excited cubs assembled at the bus in front of the scout hall on a crisp, clear morning. They said goodbye to their parents, Betty exchanged words with the parents, and took charge of any medicine that any of the cubs required and promised to administer it as needed and directed. She also assured those who were more nervous about the offspring than others that everything would be fine and she took every precaution. Both she had Paula had first aid certificates and qualifications.

“Settle down boys! Settle down!” Betty called at her charges as they chattered excitedly.

The roar of conversation did die down a little, but not enough for the woman to be properly heard.

Paula grinned, stuck two fingers in her mouth and gave a piercing whistle.

All the boys stopped talking at once and stared at the tall, pretty blonde girl.

“Thank you, Paula,” Betty said to her son’s girlfriend, and took up position at one side of the bus where she could see all the boys. She did a quick headcount and satisfied herself that she had her whole pack together.

“Are you all excited?” she asked.

“Yes, Bagheera!” the boys chorused dutifully.

“Not all of you know Paula, some of you have met her before. She’s helping me on this trip and her word is law, okay?”

Heads nodded.

“When she tells you to do something, it’s just like if I do, and unless you want trouble with me you will do what she tells you.”

Some of the more mischievous boys exchanged looks with each other and sized up the girl. They had heard their Akela’s words, but they weren’t entirely sure that the blonde could live up to it.

Paula saw the looks and said, “Have any of you guys heard of the Rovers?”

A few heads nodded at her.

“I’m a Rover,” the girl said. This was news to the boys, they hadn’t known that girls did anything scoutlike after the Guides. The Rovers had recently decided to admit girls, so it was a new development. “And believe me there is nothing you lot can think of that my friends in the Rovers haven’t already tried.”

“Thank you Paula,” Bagheera said, taking charge of the introduction again. “I do hope no one has to be spanked, but I have twenty signed permission slips from your parents that says I will if I have to. Steve, Noel, you know what that’s like, don’t you?”

She had been talking to two veteran cubs, who had been on last year’s trip. Their face’s reddened and they nodded silently.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun. I promise you, but just do what you’re told and follow the rules and we’ll all enjoy things a lot more, now before we set off does anyone need to visit the bathroom?”

Some hands rose.

Betty smiled, shook her head and muttered, “Boys! Off you go then. Anyone else who feels the need should also go as well. We will stop for lunch, but I don’t want to have to make any other unscheduled toilet stops.”


The fact that Bagheera had a licence to drive a bus was a great bonus to the pack. It was something she’d gone out and gotten when she found out how much extra it cost to hire a driver and how it impacted what the club could do. Hiring a bus was much easier and cost effective than hiring the vehicle and a driver, and it was also simpler than trying to pack the kids into a variety of cars and having to reply on parents to drive them where they wanted to go.

As Bagheera concentrated on the road and handling the big vehicle, Paula kept the cubs entertained and interested with songs and games. There was one small  issue when they were getting sing-alongs going and one boy called Damien suggested ‘Ten Sticks of Dynamite’. The sniggers from some of the other boys told Paula that there was probably a swear word involved, so she asked Damien to start it off.

In a lusty voice the boy roared out the song.

‘Ten sticks of dynamite hangin’ on the wall.
If one stick of dynamite should accidentally fall,
There’d be no sticks of dynamite and no bl…’

“We get the picture Damo,” Paula said, using the boy’s nickname. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, though. If you finish it Bagheera will feed you a soap sandwich for lunch instead of what your Mum packed, okay?”

The boy pouted, but laughed and joined in happily when one of his pack mates suggested ‘Ten in the Bed’ complete with the extra line about tying a knot in your pajamas so as not to fall out of bed when everyone rolls over.


The campsite was agreed on by all the boys as ‘ace’ and ‘grouse’. There was a lake, and canoes, which the boys would be allowed to try out and use so long as they were supervised by both Bagheera and Paula. There were woods to explore and go orienteering in. Plenty of trees to climb. Barbecue facilities that would supplement the campfire and the portable stove that had been brought along.

Bagheera knew what boys this age liked to eat and she had packed hot dogs and buns, as well as sausages and other easy to make and eat foods. She also had a cooler full of cold sodas, but she’d ration them out and preferred the boys to drink water and juices where possible.


The first order of business was setting up tents. This was a skill that most of the boys had practiced at their meetings, so it was accomplished without too much drama. Bagheera shared with Paula and the twenty cubs were divided into five tents of four boys per tent.

That first night Bagheera chose boys that she knew had their fire starter badges and had them demonstrate the learned skill by lighting the first campfire.

Dinner was a barbecue, sausages in bread with onions and tomato sauce, all washed down with ice-cold soda. They then sat around the campfire and told ghost stories before settling down for their first night in the ‘wild’. Tomorrow they would start to find out what the great outdoors had to offer.


When she felt that the time was right, and saw a few of the boys letting out jaw cracking yawns Bagheera knew that it was bed time. She stood and told the boys that she wanted them to brush their teeth, put on their pj’s and get into their sleeping bags. Once this was done, she and Paula checked all the tents, and satisfied themselves that the boys were settling down for the night.

Donald was in a tent with two other first year cubs, but they also had one of the pack’s sixers just to make sure that the younger boys learned the ropes when on a camp out.

“Tim.” the sixer, a dark boy by the name of Graeme said to the most talkative of the quartet. “It’s lights out. You better settle down now.”

“Why?” the other boy asked.

“You know Bagheera brought her paddle with her?” Graeme asked in return.

Tim gulped and immediately fell silent.

From the light of the campfire the boys could see the silhouettes of Paula and Bagheera seated by the fire enjoying a hot drink together now that the boys were all in their sleeping bags.

While Donald’s tent had wisely taken Graeme’s advice, not all were quite so smart. One tent in particular kept emitting tell tale flashes from handheld flashlights and boyish giggles.

Bagheera looked at Paula, the teenager grinned at the older lady. The motherly woman disappeared briefly into the tent she shared with the younger girl, and emerged holding a flashlight in one hand and a sturdy little rectangular wooden paddle in the other. She stalked over to the offending tent and unzipped the flap. It immediately fell silent. Bagheera clicked on her flashlight and held it so that the tent’s inhabitants could clearly see her face and the item she held in her other hand.

“Okay, boys,” the woman said in a firm voice and loud enough so that any other cub who hadn’t already fallen asleep could also hear her. “This is your one and only warning. If I hear so much as a peep from this tent again tonight then I will return.” She held up the paddle. “At least one of you has met my friend Mr Paddle before. I don’t care who the ringleader was, all four of you will spend the remainder of the night sleeping on your tummies. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Bagheera,” came four nervous young male voices.

“I’m glad we have an understanding. Sleep tight, darlings.”


After breakfast Bagheera and Paula showed their charges how to make damper and billy tea, then they went canoeing to build up an appetite for lunch, and that was where the trouble started.

Looking back on it through the years Donald was glad he didn’t wind up in the same canoe as Colin. Colin was a first year cub, but he had joined when he was older then most other kids in the pack, he was also a bit of a show off and rarely listened to what other people told him. Bagheera hadn’t taken him to her house for a spanking, but it had been a near run thing on more than one occasion.

They had three per canoe. All the boys were told specifically not to try and stand up in the canoes once they were on the water away from the pier, because it could upset the small boat and land all three occupants in the water. They were all wearing life jackets in case a canoe did come to grief, though.

Colin being the show off that he was decided to try and stand up in his canoe. He was in the middle. Both Bagheera and Paula shouted at him to sit down again or he’d upset the canoe. The boy either didn’t hear the ladies or deliberately chose to ignore them.

Predictably the canoe tipped and all three boys got a drenching. To make matters worse Colin had actually unclipped his life jacket because he said it was too tight. The other two boys made it to the dock, wet, but otherwise unharmed. Colin was a novice when it came to swimming, his life jacket came off and Paula had to dive in to haul him out before he drowned.

The rest of the boys were called in and the canoes were stored. Everyone followed Bagheera, Paula and their three dripping wet pack mates the short distance back to the campsite.

Once there Bagheera ordered Paula to make sure the other two boys were dried off and dressed in dry clothes. She built up the fire, so that it was a nice little blaze and asked Paula to bring the wet clothes back, they would dry them on a frame by the fire.

“What about me?’ Colin asked petulantly, water from his soaking hair dripping into his eyes.

“Oh I have plans for you, young man,” Bagheera told the boy, her eyes steely. “Paula!” she called to the girl, who was standing by the tent the other two boys were in while they dried off and changed clothes. “Can you please get my little helper from my bag and bring me a towel, too.”

“Delighted, ma’am,” the girl said with a broad smile and went to get the requested items.


Bagheera sat down on a convenient log and dragged Colin over to her. “What did Paula and I say not to do in the canoes?”

Colin looked worried and dragged a forearm across his nose, which had water up it and had started to drip. “I dunno.”

Bagheera sighed. “Can anyone else enlighten Colin?”

Donald’s hand went up in the air.

“Yes, Donny.”

“You said we weren’t to stand up in the canoes.”

“Very good, dear. Yes, we did. Does anyone know why we said that?”

Graeme raised his hand.

“Graeme,” Bagheera invited the veteran cub.

“The canoes tip, Bagheera. We saw it last year, although David did a demonstration for us.”

Bagheera’s lips twitched upward in a small smile. David was her oldest son, he generally did a demonstration for the cubs, but it was only because he wanted to get wet and this was how he could do it without getting into trouble, it also amused the cubs, as the teenager exaggerated the whole thing deliberately.

“We also put life jackets on you all, why did yours come off, Colin?”

“I undid it,” the boy said.

“What on earth for?” the den mother seemed genuinely perplexed by that. It was not the first time a young boy’s reasoning had escaped her, though.

“It was too tight,” Colin protested.

‘Then you should have asked either Paula or I to adjust it for you,” Bagheera told the boy.


Paula emerged from the tent she shared with the den mother. She had changed into dry clothes and was toweling her wet hair down. The other two cubs were also now in fresh clothes, and Paula arranged all the wet clothes on a portable clothes horse which she set up near a fire, knowing the hot little blaze would dry the wet garments in no time.

Colin was too concerned with Bagheera’s cross expression and her furious scolding of him for his foolishness, which could very well have had tragic consequences for both he and his two pack mates, to notice the item that Paula had in one hand. It was the little paddle that Bagheera had christened Mr Paddle. Her ‘little helper’.

“Don’t I get to change my clothes?” Colin whined.

“Of course you will darling,” Bagheera reassured him. “May I have that towel, please, Paula?”

With a grin Paula handed the clean towel to the den mother, she arranged it over her lap.

“However,” the maternal woman said to the worried boy still standing next to her, “we need to get you dry and toasty warm first.”

Nimble fingers calmly and competently undid the buttons on the waist of the boy’s soaked shorts, they undid the zip and lowered them to his ankles, his underpants soon joined them and with a startled yelp Colin found himself tipped over Bagheera’s lap, his white wet bottom pointing at the sky.

The woman didn’t waste any time with further preliminaries, she held him securely in position with one hand, and used the other to smartly slap the backside over her lap, speaking in a calm, but loud enough to voice to be heard over Colin’s yells of pain and shock.

‘There are two things that both dry and warm up wet bottoms, one is a fire, the other is a good spanking. Both can burn.”


The campsite filled with the sound of Bagheera’s broad hard palm slapping firmly across the boy’s wriggling buttocks, the only other noises the cubs heard were Colin’s howls as his rear end went swiftly from milk white to the same red as the berries that grew on some of the nearby trees.

“What you did, Colin,” Bagheera said, as she continued to stoke the fires she had expertly lit on the boy’s bare bottom, “was silly and dangerous. It was made worse because your life jacket wasn’t on properly. You could have drowned if Miss Paula hadn’t been on hand to drag you out. May I have the paddle please, Paula?”

The girl brought the small, but sturdy paddle out from behind her back and held it out to the older woman. Bagheera accepted it by the handle, measured the distance to Colin’s now glowing globes and let it fly. It cracked loudly across the tender flesh and the sound of that impact made some of the boys jump in fright. Colin roared and kicked.

“You need to thank Miss Paula for fishing you out of the lake Colin,” Bagheera said sternly, unleashing a sizzling volley with the paddle right across the boy’s sit spots.

Colin was crying steadily now and he managed to sob out, “Ththankyou Muhmiss Pawpaula.”

“My pleasure, honey,” the girl said warmly. “Just don’t fall in again, okay?”

Satisfied that Colin had apologized Bagheera unloaded with the paddle on the howling crying cub. She gave his upper thighs and fire hot hemispheres a good going over so that he was a uniform red from there right across his sit spots and the fullness of his buttocks and she could feel the heat rising up off them.

The woman set the paddle down on the log, lifted the blubbering Colin to his feet, enfolded him in a motherly hug, letting him cry into her bosom for a few moments, while she rubbed his steaming rear end, then she took him to a quiet spot of the camp, facing a tree, which she had decided to use as a ‘naughty corner’, she folded his hands over his hand and told him to stand there like a good boy and not rub, until she or Miss Paula came to collect him.

The rest of the boys had a lunch of hot dogs and soda while they were lectured on water safety and had the example of the crying Colin’s red bottom as to the consequences of not doing as they were told.


Colin’s spanking had the effect of quitening all the boys down that night and no threats implied or otherwise were required that night to make the boys settle after they were zipped into their sleeping bags and lights were extinguished.

The event made Donald and the other first year cubs determined not to meet a similar fate, although the older more experienced boys said that they averaged three spankings per camping trip and they were running a covert pool about how many more would be handed out and who to as well as what for, before they piled into the bus to return home.


Donald’s best friend in cubs was a tall, brown haired boy by the name of Stuart, more commonly known as Stu to his friends. Donald was determined to get through the rest of the trip with his bottom the same pristine white it had been the day he boarded the bus. His mother didn’t really spank, certainly not the way Bagheera did, but her words when she signed the permission slip still rang in his ears and if he got spanked on camp, did that mean another one awaited him at home when his mother was informed of his behaviour at camp?

However trouble and young boys are never all that far away from each other and even more so when one of those boys is on the adventurous side in the way that Stuart was.


The previous day Paula had taken the boys on a bushwalk and even taught them some orienteering. Stuart and Donald had taken to orienteering quickly.  Stuart’s older brother was a scout and he’d taught his younger sibling how to read a compass, the boy had been one of the youngest in the pack’s history to gain his orienteering merit badge. As a result of this when Paula had offered a family size block of chocolate for the first team of two who could pass her fairly easy in deference to their youth and level of experience orienteering course, Stuart and Colin had been first past the post to claim the treat, which they had shared with their tent mates in a before lights out feast.

Both Paula and Bagheera had run a quick wild life course, hoping to encourage the boys to spot bird life and maybe some aquatic or animal life as well, but also to recognize and avoid what was dangerous. The area was regularly patrolled by rangers, but feral cats and dogs as well as foxes could still be found and were to be avoided at all costs. The feral cats and dogs were very shy of people and just knowing a campsite was inhabited regularly seemed to be enough to make them give the place a wide berth, but the foxes were strangely enough more socialized and less scared. It didn’t help that rabbits were also known to have made their homes near to the camp.


Stuart and Donald had gone on a private exploration of the nearby bush in the hopes of spotting a rare bird or maybe even a snake, or something more exotic than rabbits and pigeons. It was a hot day and the two boys soon became both tired and bored. They dropped their packs down in a clearing and stretched out on their backs, using the lumpy packs as pillows.

After a few moments their conversation degenerated into the sort of boastful banter that small boys enjoy. “Betcha I could climb that tree,” Stuart said, pointing at a tall tree with smooth bark that stretched up into the sky.

“Betcha can’t,” Donald retorted. The branches were a long way up, and Donald didn’t think Stuart could shinny up it.

‘Watch,” Stuart said, leaping to his feet and then stopping as if frozen to the spot.

“What?” Donald asked, sitting up.

Stuart pointed to his eyes, put a finger over his lips and then at a flash of red in the undergrowth. “Fox,” both boys whispered.

The small, red furred canine crept out into the open cautiously and its eyes regarded the boys aggressively.

“Looks just like a little dog,” Stuart said.

“Yeah,” Donald agreed. He’d been at his parents for some time to get him a dog, but so far they had resisted his requests.

“Reckon we could catch it?” Stuart asked as the fox kept them in its sight, it crouched on its back legs, the lips peeling back from the needle sharp white teeth.

“It’s not very big,” Donald said, fishing a sweater out of his pack and shaking it out. “We could trap it in this.”

“Okay,” Stuart agreed. “I’ll scare it to you, you drop the sweater over it and then we both dive on it.”


The boys were about to put their foolhardy plan into action when the fox hissed, turned tail and darted back into the undergrowth.

The boy’s eyes opened wide in surprise and they wondered what had spooked the animal when they heard the clearing of a throat behind them and turned to look into the angry eyes of Miss Paula.

“What exactly did I tell you about animals like foxes yesterday?” Paula asked as she hauled the two protesting boys back to camp.

“To leave them alone,” Donald recalled miserably.

“And what did I just catch the two of you doing?”

“Trying to catch one,” Stuart sighed.

‘Trying to get yourselves a dose of rabies!” Paula snorted.


“What’s happened, Paula?” Bagheera asked from where she was showing a group of boys how to tie knots for their merit badges.

“I caught these two,” the girl shook the arms of her two captives. “Trying to trap a fox.”

“They were what?” Bagheera asked, her eyes flashing.

Some of the cubs exclaimed, “Cool!”

“One thing that won’t be cool are two little bottoms,” Bagheera vowed, as she set up a stool in between the opening to her tent and the campfire.

Paula gave the boys into the older lady’s charge and disappeared into the tent. When she came out she had Bagheera’s ‘little helper’ paddle in one hand and a heavy looking rectangular wooden hairbrush in the other.

“I thought that would come in handy when I packed it,” Bagheera said with a smile as she directed the girl onto a stool opposite her.

A crowd of cubs were gathering to watch the show and Donald felt himself start to cry as his bottom tingled. Even though Stuart had felt his father’s strap at least once he too started to cry, because he had heard stories about their den mother’s spankings and he knew with certainty he would soon be face down over that wide lap having his tender behind soundly spanked to a scorching lobster red.

Before commencing the spanking Bagheera and Paula lectured the boys in tandem. Paula had Donald in front of her and Stuart was with the den mother. It appeared as if this was going to be a dual spanking and each boy would be spanked at the same time.

“Foxes are dangerous, they’re vermin!” Bagheera told Stuart.

“They bite and give you diseases!” Paula said to Donald.

Both boys were crying hard in a mixture of fear and embarrassment. They didn’t really hear anything that they were being told, they just knew that soon their bottoms were going to be very sore and about as red as the long gone fox’s fur.


After the scolding shorts and underpants were lowered and two adventurous young cubs were tipped over two determined laps.  The boys were positioned and the palms of Betty Galea and Paula rose and fell.



Pink handprints bloomed on tender young white buttocks and youthful lungs opened up in shouts of protest at the rude treatment.

Once Paula and Bagheera had administered their opening salvoes they settled into steady rhythm and by some unspoken agreement they kept pace with each other. Bagheera would smack Stuart’s reddening hills with a ringing slap and then Paula would repeat the action with Donald.

As their behinds grew ruddy the temperatures in them rose and the boys no longer cared that anyone was watching, they simply threw their heads back and howled, tears rolling down their cheeks. Donald kicked so vigorously that his shorts came right off and flew across the campsite. One of the other boys helpfully grabbed them before they could go too far and held onto them for after the spanking.

‘That seems to have lit quite a nice little campfire,” Bagheera said, her tone approving as she first looked at the bottom nestled in her lap and then at Donald’s jiggling globes. “I think these two could get their firelighter badge with this,” she joked.

Paula smiled at the older lady and gave Donald’s hot cheeks a fond rub, at which he sobbed a little louder, but actually enjoyed the gentle attention.

“Shall we swap?” Paula asked.

“Yes,” Bagheera decided definitely. “We do after all want our two fearless little hunters to get the complete experience, don’t we?”


The boys were lifted to their feet and the women swapped. Donald was flipped over Bagheera’s firm lap and sturdy thighs while Stuart found himself draped unceremoniously over Paula’s knees.

Donald flinched as he felt the flat hard surface of the small, but thick paddle dragged across his still steaming hindquarters. On the rare occasions his mother smacked him she used her hand, once or twice it had been the wooden spoon, but it was always over pants and never more than a few smacks with the spoon. The worst he could remember was throwing a tantrum about bedtime and getting it over his pajama bottoms. The hand spanking that Paula had just given him had been the soundest he had ever taken and now the den mother was going to follow it up with a paddle!

Stuart was a bit less concerned than Donald. His parents were a little quicker to use corporal punishment, and his mother generally spanked over underpants, she usually stopped when she saw the redness spread down from the underpants to his upper thighs. Bagheera had done worse than that already, the backs of the boy’s legs were the same shade of red as the rest of his rear end. His mother had never used a hairbrush like Paula had in her hand, but his brother had gotten it with the brush and while he said it was bad, it was bearable. Stuart fancied that his mother also had more experience smacking bottoms than the teenaged girl. Clearly Paula had never babysat the spirited young cub or he’d have known differently.


The paddle made a nice loud crack as Bagheera brought it crisply over Donald’s glowing backside. Just as the sting registered and the boy yelled, the heavier thudding sound of the hairbrush in Paula’s hand echoed around the campsite. Bagheera wound up for her second blow with the paddle and Stuart’s howl hit the air.

On it went. The paddle smacked down and Donald roared and kicked violently. Then the hairbrush fell and Stuart bellowed and squirmed as the temperature of his backside rose rapidly. To the boys over the laps and maybe even the awed onlookers it may have seemed endless. While it was a sound spanking, and certainly beyond anything either boy had felt before, it really didn’t take that long and from start to finish was a matter of minutes.

The boys bottoms looked and felt like they were about to catch fire, and their temperatures probably rivaled the campfire, which was regularly used to boil water during the trip. They had stopped yelling and kicking and lay over the laps of Betty and Paula, simply sobbing. Taking her cue from the older woman Paula administered a few more hearty licks with her brush once Stuart had got to that point, Donald received similar treatment from the little helper paddle.


Paula and Bagheera rubbed the bottoms vigorously to soothe them a little. They lifted the boys into sitting positions in their laps and held them, while whispering gently into their ears, stroking their hair and rubbing their backs. When the boys were cried out they were escorted to the ‘naughty tree’ and stood there with their blazing rumps displayed to the rest of the pack as a lesson.

Everyone took a swim following afternoon tea and Donald and Stuart were able to cool down their battered bottoms which still felt fiery hot to the duo.


That was the second last spanking of the trip. One tent full of spirited cubs went through a torrid encounter with the paddle. Paula spanked the boys by hand, and then gave them to Bagheera for a paddling. They had attempted to prank another tent and been caught in the process. The bus’ suspension was adequate, but the seats could be more comfortable. The other cubs didn’t envy those four having to nurse freshly spanked bottoms on the bumpy journey home.


Helen Simpson’s lips pursed as the den mother related the incident involving the fox to her when the boys returned.

“Bet his bum was the same shade as the foxes tail by the time you were done with him, Betty,” Daniel Simpson joked.

Betty Galea agreed with a small smile that it was.

“I may have to take my wooden spoon to him when we get him home,” Helen mused as her son’s eyes grew wide.

“By all means inspect him, he should still have a few marks and may be sleeping on him tummy for another night or two, if you think it’s warranted going to bed with a hot bottom never hurt anyone, but I wouldn’t do it just because,” Betty gave her advice.

“Uh no,” Helen said, somewhat mollified. “It sounds like you did a good job.”

“Donny’s a good boy,” was the den mother’s assessment, “but all boys need a good spanking from time to time, and no one better to do that then their Mum.”


Donald did experience at least one spanking at his den mother’s house in his years at the cubs and Helen became a more hands on spanking mother. Donald wasn’t entirely convinced, but he felt his mother got lessons from the maternal Betty Galea, because not only were his spankings more frequent, the back of a hairbrush was added into the mix and they were also always bare bottom from that point on, although he wasn’t spanked for punishment after the age of fourteen.


“So that camping trip convinced Grandma Helen to spank?” Derek Simpson asked his father, while young Gordon’s eyes grew wide.

Donald nodded with a faint grin.

“She never laid a finger on us,” Derek said.

“No, that’s what grandmas are for,” Martha said, scooping her grandson into her arms for a tight hug and a kiss on his cheek, “spoiling, not spanking.”

“Back in my day spanking is what den mothers did,” Donald concluded and silently added, “And I’m a better adult for the experience.”

Sunday, 14 September 2014

September update (sort of) from Kimberley Susan

No, I didn't get lost on a beach and forget to come back, although it wasn't for lack of trying.

My goodness, Aunty and I have barely had time to catch our breath since we got back home. The shop has been rather like the below photograph.

As regards the blog. We have a Seegee story to post, and another one from a follower that Aunty is editing before publication. We're also trying to think of what we want for the SotM in October. More on that later in the month, I am sure.

Mum said since we got back we've had to book double sessions like this one from CF Shots to try and catch up.

Those two girls, despite not being actually related do remind me of the Waynwright twins.

Well, nose back to the grindstone. Think of me as I close with this image from Exclusive Education.

Love until October,
Kimberley Susan.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Back to Reality

Hello! Yes, I am back from Merry Old England.

I had a positively lovely time, but now it's back home and back to business. For those of you awaiting email replies from me, rest assured that once I get on top of things I shall respond. I think there are a couple of things to be posted and I'll get to those too. At present I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, that's the one bad thing about having a long overseas holiday, so much to reorganise when you come home again.

Kim should be along with an update soon as well. She's as overwhelmed as I am at being back to work.

I leave you with this lovely Ron Wilson drawing that sums up things at the shop at present.

Aunty Andrea XXX

Tuesday, 5 August 2014

August Update from Kimberley Susan

Hello everyone! It's your favourite receptionist and discipline consultant (at least I hope I'm your favourite!) Kimberley Susan here again with another monthly update.

This is a little bittersweet. Sweet because Aunty and I are going on holidays! And bitter because Aunty and I are going holidays, and we won't be able to entertain you while we're off enjoying our hard earned break.

I'm heading for somewhere like this.

Sun, sand, water, hot boys in bathing suits. Mmmmm...

And Aunty is going here.

She's not staying in the Tower, or at least I don't think she is. She's also venturing out of London, but you get the idea.

As I don't have a lot to say about upcoming posts I'll have to find something else to discuss for a bit.

I've had a few questions about what I do when I'm not answering phones, making appointments or spanking naughty bottoms here at the shop.

It's not really a hobby as such, but after I met Trent (Spank Shop #30) I realised that I could help Clarkstown youngsters out by tutoring them. I also helped Ryan (Spank Shop #36) get his high school equivalency and I'm apparently booked in to assist Jeremy Cameron (Spank Shop #45) graduate next year (he didn't pass I'm sad to say), so what sort of tutor am I? Well the young lady in this picture explains it quite succinctly I feel.

I normally only have one student at a time, so I don't have an audience, but I do spank and paddle for tardiness and cheek, amongst other things.

If you're booked in for a session with me this image from Someones Gonna Get It is probably a fair approximation of what you'll be greeted with when you arrive at class.

Maybe that will fire Seegee's fertile imagination (hint hint) for an upcoming Spank Shop story.

I'll leave you with this image from Spanking Toons.

As Kimberley said it's goodbye for now from Andrea, Gabrielle and Maria.

But we'll be back in September, so until then be good and if you can't be good remember we're all waiting at The Spank Shop.

Andrea, Kimberley, Gabrielle and Maria.

Sunday, 3 August 2014

What's in a name?

Quite a bit if the result of this month's SotY nominee is anything to judge by.

I've been a very naughty Aunty and this is up far too late, but I am busy getting ready for my vacation and as a result no SotM in August. That will return with me in September.

I had some very deserving nominations this month, but there can only be one winner (well except for that time when we had two) and this month more of you wanted to see either give a spanking or be spanked by Miss Andie MacDowell.

Andie's quite close to my heart, because we share a name and she represents me here on the blog.

Thank you to Jean-Jacques for nominating Miss MacDowell.

What do any of you know about Andie, though?

Her career in front of the camera began in the early 80's as a model and here she is steaming up the lens good and proper. Sultry is the word that comes to mind.

Then she went into acting and her big breakthrough was being chosen as the female lead alongside Gerard Depardieu in Green Card. For some reason every time I see that picture I think he's carrying her off for a spanking. Gerard just seems like that type of guy.

All dolled up for a wedding, maybe four of them with a funeral thrown in for good measure. Four Weddings and a Funeral is one of her best known films and one that definitely made her A list material. I always wanted to see her spank Hugh Grant, he just needs it, as well as soap his mouth out for the f word laced opening of the film.

In recent years she's become the face of L'Oreal cosmetics and her classical features are definitely a good advertisement for the product. It's a shame that she doesn't act more, because I could listen to her soft Southern drawl forever.

Now she's over 50 and fabulous. I would love to see her spanking some sense into some of the modern starlets. We've had a few candidates for that firm sensible lap and that stern matronly palm in the ranks of the SotY nominees both this year and last year.

So did we get it right and would you all like to see Andie giving the spankings out?

Aunty Andrea

Monday, 28 July 2014

'The Spank Shop 47 - Andrew'

While I've been getting ready to go away and tallying up the votes for July's SotM (still a few days left to vote) Seegee's been writing about our favourite little local business.

From Sassy Bottoms. Aunty Maureen goes to work on her nephew's naughty bottom.

And at Clare Spanks Men an older Andrew gets similar treatment, this time from Contessa K.

Kimberley Kennedy ushered a crying blonde boy in front of her. He was dressed in an open backed apron that covered his chest and hung to his knees, but showed off his glowing red bottom.

“Come on Roger,” the blonde teenage girl said kindly, “let’s get you into a corner until Mum comes to pick you, sweetie.”

Maria Sculiatta smiled at the scene as Roger folded his hands over his short blonde curls. “Such a sweetheart,” she murmured fondly.

“I know,” Kimberley agreed, grinning at the freshly spanked boy. “I can take over now, Maria.”

“Thank you, Kimberley,” the maternal woman said, vacating her chair at reception. “Karen’s getting changed now, so I’ll meet her in my parlour.”

“Excellent,” Kimberley said, checking the spreadsheet on her computer monitor to make sure that Maria’s client’s details had been entered.

As Maria disappeared into her parlour, as the shop called the rooms that their spankers used to conduct business, Kimberley reviewed what Maria had been doing while she had been chastising Roger Townsend. The teenager regarded reception as her personal fiefdom, and even though she knew Maria was an experienced receptionist in her own right, she still felt the need to make sure everything was done how she liked it.

The shops owner, Andrea Mahony, had finished with her most recent client and Maria had sorted that out. Greg Lane wasn’t due for another thirty minutes, so Andrea was having some quiet time.


Kimberley kept one eye on her monitor as she set up Andrea’s schedule for the next day to send to her, and the other on Roger’s cutely jiggling behind as he sobbed occasionally. That was when the bell above the door rang merrily as it opened and an elegantly dressed lady with straight shoulder length blonde hair entered. She was well endowed with broad shoulders, an immaculately made up face and smoky grey eyes.

The receptionist had been expecting Greg Lane, not Simone Devlin, and her blue eyes registered her surprise. Simone Devlin was a little notorious in Clarkstown’s tightly knit community. She lived near the local university, and due to her wealth was generally in the company of one of the town’s other more affluent members; the aristocratic Veronica Dixon-Thompson.

Simone had married a millionaire who was a good deal older than she was. The union had produced no children and Simone had been the sole beneficiary of her husband’s will. It made her an instant millionaire. Some unkind souls -Kimberley’s mother Gabrielle being among them - claimed that Simone was a gold digger who had only married her husband due to his age and the possibilities of inheriting a fortune.

Whether or not this was the case Kimberley personally didn’t know. What she did know was that Simone had moved to Clarkstown and set herself up nicely. She also had a string of ‘toyboys’ that were a good deal younger than she was. The current term for someone like Simone was ‘cougar’. She was the last person that Kimberley would have expected to walk through the doors of The Spank Shop. She couldn’t possibly be here to ask for a spanking, could she?

The teenager didn’t much care for ‘walk ins’. Most of their business was done by appointment. You rang up and booked in, you didn’t just wander in on the off chance that someone could drop everything to smack your bottom. If Kimberley had her way she’d ban ‘walk ins’ and only take on pre arranged business. She knew, however that Andrea didn’t agree with her philosophy, and in fact argued that they got a good deal of business the other way.

Bearing in mind that if she wasn’t at least polite it would get back to Andrea, and her employers reaction to that sort of report was both swift and unpleasant, Kimberley pasted a smile on her face and said brightly, “Mrs Devlin! Welcome to The Spank Shop. How may we help you?”

The woman looked a little surprised that the girl knew her name, which Kimberley scored as a point for herself. Simone was aware that Kimberley and her mother prided themselves on knowing the business of everyone in town, so it shouldn’t have thrown her, but it did. In fact everything about the shop was just a little surreal, from the innocuous looking fa├žade out the front, it being wedged between a hairdressing salon and pleasant little patisserie, to the young man sporting a bare glowing red rear end in one corner of the reception area, which oddly enough resembled the waiting room in a doctors surgery.

“Kimberley, right?” Simone asked, in her rich deep voice.

The blonde girl nodded and self-consciously fluffed up her clouds of honey hair.

“I was wondering if I could see Andrea.”

“Miss Mahony,” the girl said, emphasizing the title.


“Just stay there for a moment, ma’am,” Kimberley said tightly, reaching for the phone.


The phone rang in Andrea’s comfortable parlour with the crackling fire and she set her book down to answer it. “Yes Kim? Is Gregory here early?”

“Ahhh…no ma’am,” the girl said carefully. “Mrs Devlin is here and she was wondering if she could see you.”

“How long do I have before Gregory’s appointment?”

“Twenty five minutes or so.”

Andrea shrugged even though she knew Kimberley couldn’t see the movement. ‘That should be fine for a consultation. Do I know Mrs Devlin?”

“No, ma’am. Her first name is Simone and she’s friends with Miss Dixon-Thompson.”

“Veronica, lovely. Okay, send her in, please dear.”


Andrea was seated in her armchair by the fire, one long nylon sheathed leg crossed casually over the other when Simone Devlin entered the room.

Andrea smiled at her guest and motioned towards a chair across from her. As Simone took a seat, Andrea asked, “Coffee, tea?”

“No thank you,” Simone answered. “Your receptionist seemed to indicate you were on quite a tight schedule.”

Andrea laughed. “Kimberley’s a lovely girl, very efficient, but she does tend to be a little over protective of my time. How many I help you, Mrs Devlin?”

“Simone, please.”

“Only if you call me Andie.”

“Done deal!” Simone agreed, those grey eyes shining.

Andrea sat back and sized up the woman seated across from her. She was a little older than most clients, having a few years on Andrea herself, but she would be far from the first older lady that Andrea had spanked.

She didn’t know as much about Simone as Kimberley did, very few people had the same level of knowledge about the members of Clarkstown’s community as the receptionist and her mother, though. The name was familiar and she could remember Gabrielle discussing her in rather scandalized tones. Andrea tended to tune out when her friend and part time employee engaged in local gossip, but Gabrielle had been quite insistent that Simone Devlin was in desperate need of a good hot bottom.

“Have you come here for yourself, Simone?” Andrea probed gently. Adults were often embarrassed about coming to see her, so she felt it was best to be diplomatic and let them tell their story in their own time. She also had a good twenty to twenty five minutes up her sleeve before she’d need to get Simone to hurry up.

A flush crept into Simone’s expertly made up cheeks and showed under her hard won tan. “No,” she denied. “It’s actually for someone else.”

“Someone else?” Andrea echoed. “Is there any reason why that person isn’t here?”

“He’s working today,” Simone admitted.

“He?” Andrea asked. “You’re here for your husband? Son?”

Simone laughed. “Andie, how much do you know about me?”

“Very little Simone,” Andrea confessed.

“I don’t generally shop in this area of town. In fact I usually do my shopping elsewhere altogether, so it was Veronica who made me aware of your shop and what services you offer.”

Andrea nodded.

“My husband was a wealthy man and a good deal older than me. Despite what people say about me I did genuinely love him and didn’t marry him in the hopes of inheriting his wealth. However he did leave me a wealthy woman.”

Andrea didn’t say anything, but she was starting to recall some of what Gabrielle had been saying that time. The term ‘gold digger’ had been mentioned.

Simone’s floodgates seemed to have been opened and she continued on. “I’ve had a number of lovers since then, but no one I wanted to marry. I tend to prefer younger men, much younger men.”

Andrea took a breath and asked, “How old is your current ‘lover’, Simone?”

“Andy…Andrew is in his mid twenties.”

If Andrea was any judge of age Simone’s boyfriend was probably twenty years her junior. “And you’ve come here to get his bottom smacked?”

“That’s the basic way of putting it,” Simone said.

“At this point Simone I probably should explain how I work here. I do spank bottoms, that’s true, but I don’t just do it because one party or the other wants it, or finds it some sort of a turn on. There has to be a reason.”

Simone blushed again. “Oh it isn’t anything like that, Andie!”

“I assume Andrew knows you’re here?”

“Oh yes, we just both felt it better that I test the waters, sort of woman to woman.”

“So what exactly has Andrew done that he requires some overlap therapy?” Andrea pressed.

“Andy’s working for his Phd. I support him financially. He’s a smart man, but ever since he was a teenager he’s had a tendency to slack off unless there’s some sort of inducement to make him not do so.”

“Sort of carrot and stick philosophy?” Andrea guessed.

Simone nodded, and then grinned. “Light on the carrot and heavy on the stick in Andy’s case.”

“You look more than capable of administering a good spanking, Simone,” Andrea observed. The woman was clearly fit and Andrea was sure she kept herself in shape with regular workouts. If she was also able to satisfy a much younger man sexually, then she was definitely in good shape. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Oh, if it were that easy, Andie, he would have already found himself over my knee.”

The easy familiarity with which Simone spoke about spanking hinted to Andrea that she was no stranger to corporal punishment. “You were spanked growing up?”

Simone nodded. “It stopped when I was fourteen, but yes both of my parents believed in the effectiveness of a smacked bottom. I also spanked some of my charges as a teenage babysitter.”

“Yet you can’t do this for Andrew?”

“No,” Simone said, shaking her head gently. “He’s an interesting case. He grew up without a father, he was raised by his mother, and his aunt moved in with them when was starting high school. Up until that point he’d never really had to work academically, things just came naturally to him, when the work got harder his grades nosedived. His mother didn’t understand it, and she was anti corporal punishment. His aunt was an entirely different kettle of fish. She worked out during an after school tutoring session what the problem was and got to the bottom of it so to speak.”
“His mother never worked out what was going on?”

“If she did she never said or did anything about it. Initially his aunt’s spankings were frequent, then his grades improved and they were needed less often. Going from once a month to once every three months or even less. His aunt passed away just before he began his Phd, and the problem only recently surfaced again.”

“I still don’t know why you can’t spank him. Simone,” Andrea said, glancing at the clock and becoming aware that time was running out before Greg arrived for his whacking.

“His aunt seemed to imprint on him, he tried going to someone else in college when his aunt wasn’t available and all he got out of it was a sore bottom. He wound up having to make a quick visit home, and throw himself on her tender mercies. His grades improved almost immediately.”

“I look like his aunt?” Andrea guessed, she had a similar experience with Evan Marsters. He had come to her for a birthday spanking. When Andrea had turned him down because of her ‘needs to be a genuine reason’ rule and suggested that he visit a professional dominatrix, he had confessed that it had to be her due to her physical resemblance to a former primary school teacher that he’d had a fantasy about. Kimberley, who knew Evan from school, and was now his girlfriend, had remembered a long ago incident for which the soon to be twenty one year old had never been punished, and so he got his birthday spanking.

“No, not at all,” Simone said.

Andrea blinked. “Excuse me? I’m really not sure what I can do then, Simone.”

“I had lunch with Veronica last week and she was telling me about your shop and she mentioned a lady that works here, Maria Sculiatta.”

Andrea nodded. “Yes, Maria is one of our part timers. She’s rostered on today.”

“Andy knows her, or rather he knows what she looks like.”


“She works as a receptionist for Dr Rosalie Sutcliffe.” Simone explained. “Andrew had to do some work with Dr Sutcliffe for his thesis. Apparently Mrs Sculiatta looks a lot like his aunt.”

Andrea’s green eyes became thoughtful. “Okay,” she said firmly. “We need to arrange for another appointment. Both Andrew and Maria will need to be present and I’m assuming you also want to be there.”

Simone nodded firmly.

“I also should attend. I’ll just call Kimberley and see if we can set that up,” and she reached for the phone to dial through to her receptionist.


“I’ve taken the liberty of having Kimberley prepare a pot of tea,” Andrea said with a smile as the girl ushered Simone Devlin and a tall, slender, not at all unattractive young man with a head of wavy light brown hair into the cosy parlour.

Simone took a seat on the couch and gently pulled her nervous lover down beside her.

The plump woman with the black curly hair and the maternal looking features, greeted the couple with a smile and by raising her teacup.

“Tea would be wonderful, Andie,” Simone said, pouring a cup for herself and Andrew. “It can be calming, and poor Andy’s quite a bundle of nerves at present.”

“Oh totally understandable,” Andrea said, sipping from her own cup, and giving Andrew a reassuring smile. “Now a spanking may not take place here today, although Maria has come prepared,” the brunette picked up a large oval hairbrush, made of a rich deeply patterned wood from a table in between her and Andrea’s chair. “If it does however I’ve had Kimberley book out long enough to light a nice hot little fire in a certain young man’s bottom.”

Andrew squirmed under Andrea’s penetrating emerald gaze.

“Do you know much about how the shop works, Andrew?” Andrea asked.

The post-graduate student shook his head gently and confessed, “Only what Simone told me about your meeting last week.”

“Okay,” Andrea said, setting her teacup down in its saucer with a gentle click. “Generally the decisions about how to punish are made by the disciplinarian after they’ve been apprised of what is needed. There are however cases where the punishee has input into what takes place, and I feel that Andrew’s situation is one of those. Simone told me about your aunt and how she dealt with you and about her resemblance to Maria. I’ve passed that on to Maria, but maybe if you could tell us a little about how things worked at home with your aunt. What was her name, by the way?”

“Maureen,” Andrew answered softly. “Aunty Maureen.”

“You miss her, sweetheart?” Maria asked gently.

Andrew took a deep breath and nodded.

Simone reached out and rubbed her boyfriend’s back gently, using large circles, to settle him.


“It was all fine until I got to high school,” Andrew began his story. “I was one of those kids who just picked stuff up and never had to really work at it. It wasn’t that easy at high school and I had to study.”

Maria nodded. She’d endured similar things with her own children when they transitioned from one form of schooling to another and found it hard to take the step up. They found if they worked a little harder things improved, and a spanking did help with focus sometimes. Her children seemed to study a little harder when they were sitting on a freshly smacked bottom.

“Mum suggested that Aunty Maureen tutor me, because she’d been a teacher herself. It took a bit, but one day she lost it with me and spanked me. Funny thing was after that my grades did improve in that class.”

“I used to tutor in high school and I found a spanking never hurt with some kids,” Andrea said, remembering her own teenage experiences.

“It worked with me,” Andrew agreed.

“I got the occasional spanking for a bad report, too,” Simone murmured.

“It was usually report card day or when I brought assignments home that I was spanked,” Andrew remembered. “Aunty Maureen would look at the work, the grade and the teachers comments.”

“So you got spanked every report card day?” Maria asked, thinking of some of the emotionally charged encounters she had gone through with her own four when they brought home a disappointing report. A bad report didn’t always necessarily mean a spanking, there were reasons and it had to be discussed first.

“At first, yes,” Andrew admitted, “but it changed after a while. We’d talk about the comments and highlight what I could do to improve. We also looked at the good things and assessed it and looked for ways to repeat that behaviour.”

“How did Aunty Maureen spank you, darling?” Maria asked.

The young man looked at her, questions in his deep brown eyes.

“What did she use?” Maria prompted.

“Her hand at first, Mrs Sculiatta…”

“Andrew, tesoro,” Maria implored. “Maybe it would be better if I were Aunty Maria.”

Andrew nodded and started again. “Yes, Aunty Maria. She started with her hand, but then she added in a hairbrush.”

“Like this?” Maria asked, holding up the same brush as earlier.

Andrew frowned. “It was made of different wood, but yes it was wooden and quite large, oval like that one.”

“Excellent,” Maria breathed with a smile, setting the brush, which was made of koa wood and had been named Contessa K by the motherly Italian woman, down again.

“Why is that excellent?” Simone asked, with interest.

“The hairbrush is our most common implement of correction,” Andrea answered. “We’re all quite experienced with one and it helps if the client is used to it.”

“Okay,” Simone said, sipping her tea.

“She got this little paddle later on, too,” Andrew explained. “It wasn’t very big and it was quite light, made of some sort of clear plastic, but boy did it burn!”

“Lexan,” Andrea said. “We have some of them too, if you’d like.”

Andrew shook his head “God no, ma’am!”

Andrea laughed richly. “No Aunty for me?”

The Phd student blushed. “There may be too many Aunties.”

“You have a point there. Ma’am is perfectly respectable, dear.”

“When we say spanking here at the shop,” Maria entered the conversation again, “we generally mean bare bottom over the knee. Is that what Aunty Maureen did?”

Andrew nodded, and Simone noticed that he shivered with anticipation as Maria outlined what spanking at the shop entailed.

“After she gave me a hug, then put me in the corner to let my bottom cool down and made me work on my homework sitting on a hard chair, still bare.”

“Very effective,” Maria approved. “I think your aunt and I would have been good friends.”

“I quite like what I hear about her, too,” Andrea said.


Andrew sipped his tea nervously more for something to do rather than any real liking or need for the drink. Simone smiled at him and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want, Andy?”

“I need it,” the young man answered, his voice unsteady.

“How was it done?” Maria asked.

“Done? Aunty Maria?” Andrew asked, setting his cup down and licking his lips. “I thought I just explained the spanking.”

“Oh you did, sweetheart,” Maria assured him. “However there is more to a spanking that just the smacking of the bottom, as I am sure you understand. You said that you had a report card or a marked assignment to show your aunt, so that she could assess it and what needed to be done. I never went to college, but I assume that studying for a Phd must have some form of assessment.”

Andrew nodded. “It’s done by testing the results of hypothesis or study. You write a paper detailing your work and the results. It’s not quite like a high school class or a college course.”

“No, it isn’t,” Maria agreed, and she was clearly thinking about how to best approach the issue.

Andrea looked at her watch, she could see that Maria wanted to get Andrew’s spanking underway, but she hadn’t yet gained his approval as to whether he wanted it to take place here and now and if he did she still had to observe the legal necessities.


“Andrew,” she said in her soft cultured drawl.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I think your Aunty Maria is more than ready to spank that naughty little bottom of yours, but before she does so we have to make a decision.”

“Decision, ma’am?” a dry mouthed Andrew asked.

“Do you want your spanking to take place now? In this room?”

Andrew swallowed hard, emotions warred on his handsome face, his tense shoulders dropped and he whispered, “Yes.”

Simone looked at Andrea and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

Andrea smiled at the woman and produced a folder, which had Andrew’s name lettered on it in neat capitals. The chestnut haired woman removed two sheets of paper. One was a questionnaire and the other looked like a legal form. She pushed both sheets across the table to Andrew, with a pen clipped to the top of them, it held them together.

“Do you want it just to be Aunty Maria and you or do you want Simone and I to stay?” Andrea asked, as Andrew picked up the forms and looked them over.

“Can you both be here, please?” Andrew asked.

“Of course I can, darling,” Simone said, putting her arm around his shoulders and giving him a gentle hug.

“I’d be delighted to act as a witness, if you feel that’s what you want,” Andrea agreed. “From what you said, though, it’s not what happened at home with your aunt.”

No,” Andrew admitted. “Mum never knew about the spankings. At least Aunty Maureen and I never told her, she may have worked it out. She didn’t approve of spanking.”

“Maybe she should have,” Maria said softly.

“I agree, Aunty Maria,” Andrew said, starting to fill out the questionnaire that Andrea liked all her first timers, especially adults like Andrew, to fill in before they went over the knee at the shop for their maiden voyage. “That’s why I think I want Miss Andrea and Simone here. Simone, well…because I love her and she needs to see this.”

Simone blushed and sipped her tea to try and hide her embarrassment.

“And Miss Andrea, because she’s sort of standing in for my Mum.”

“Goodness!” Andrea said and sipped her own tea. “I hope you don’t think I look old enough to be your mother, dear.”

“No, ma’am,” Andrew said quickly. “I put that badly. I just think I need someone that is kind of an authority figure. I don’t know. It just seems kind of right.”

Andrea nodded. “Are you done with the questionnaire, darling?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Andrew said, handing it over, and looking at Andrea’s release form which she required all adult clients to sign before they got spanked, for her own protection.

Andrea scanned the form, looking at the answers and the check boxes. “Preferred implement, hairbrush,” she murmured. “You’ve said no to an apron?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Andrew said. “I didn’t really know what that was.”

Andrea laughed. “They’re a neck to knee apron that covers your front, but leaves the back nice and bare. I started to use them to preserve modesty when I had older clients of different genders to be spanked together, but they embarrass wonderfully and they’re quite convenient for public corner time displays out in reception…don’t worry, we won’t do that to you unless you ask us to. You may wind up in an apron one day, but today is not that day.”

“I think its best this first time if I take down his trousers the way his Zia Maureen used to,” Maria added, grinning as she saw a bright red flush creep into the young man’s cleanly shaven cheeks.

“You’re all good with the release?” Andrea asked as it was signed and handed to her.

Andrew nodded and Simone interjected. “Veronica told me about them when I first mentioned that I had a need for what you do here, so I’d worded Andrew up about it. We both understand why you have them, Andie.”

“Lovely,” Andrea said, tucking both forms into the folder and putting it aside for delivery to Kimberley later so she could add it to her files for Andrew’s next visit. She was very confident that it would take more than one soundly smacked bottom to cure him of his ways. “Now we’ve got that out of the way I think I’ll let Maria take over from here. More tea. Simone?”

“No, I’m good, thank you. It was lovely.”

“Kimberley does make a good cup of tea,” Andrea agreed, ringing through to the girl in reception.

The teenager arrived in the room just after and smiled at everyone as she busied herself clearing the tea things away and accepting Andrew’s folder from Andrea. She even eyed off the Phd student and Andrea just knew she was picturing him bare bottom up over her own lap.


Andrea looked around at the room when Kimberley had gone and said, “I think we need to switch the seating arrangements first. Maria you swap with Simone. You’ll need to be on the couch for this. Andrew you stand for the moment and we’ll let Aunty Maria look after you once we’ve got everything sorted out.”

Maria and Simone shared a smile as they went past each other while taking new seats. Andrew stood in the middle of the room, looking a little lost.

“Don’t worry,” Andrea reassured him as Maria spread her skirts out on the couch. “We’ll soon have you over a firm lap, getting exactly what you need, sweetie.”

Andrew didn’t say anything. He doubted he could properly express what he was feeling. A part of him hoped that Andrea was right, but another part of him remembered how much his aunt’s spankings had hurt and that part of him had his bottom tingling and wondering why on earth he had agreed to this? A look at Simone’s concerned grey eyes chased some of that away. This was the best thing for both of them.

“Andrew!” Maria’s stern voice broke into his thoughts and her dark eyes flashed. “Listen to your aunt when she speaks to you!”

Andrew blinked and said lamely, “I…uuhhh…ma’am?”

“I’m ma’am to you now, am I young man?” Maria demanded. “What happened to Aunty Maria?”

“I…ummm…Aunty Maria…” Andrew’s uncertain voice tailed off.

“My goodness!” Maria exclaimed.

Andrea had not yet had the opportunity to watch Maria in action like this. There had been the session with the four school vandals, but like many appointments at The Spank Shop, the spankers tailored the way they handled them to match what they felt was needed. That afternoon Maria had taken her cues from Andrea. While Andrea was in the room today, Maria was running the appointment. Andrea suspected that right now she was channeling Mama Maria, when confronting one of her own children about some misdeed or another. Gabrielle Kennedy claimed that outside of her own four, the Sculiatta kids probably had the best paddled bottoms in town.

“Your work hasn’t been up to scratch of late, has it, Andrew?” Maria asked sternly.

“Ummm…no…I guess not, Aunty Maria,” Andrew stammered.

“Where’s your thesis at?” Maria probed intently.

“Well…I…uhhh…not where it’s meant to be, Aunty,” Andrew admitted, his cheeks colouring up with embarrassment.

“No, it is not,” Maria agreed. “Now what have you been doing that you’re missing lab sessions and not working on your thesis? I’m sure seeing as Simone is paying for a lot of this she’d be very interested in hearing your explanation.”

Andrea watched Simone relax back into her chair, Maria’s performance was certainly reassuring her and putting any fears she may have had to rest. Getting the punishee to admit to their wrongdoing and having them actually confess was therapeutic Andrea felt. Maria’s other employer Rosalie Sutcliffe agreed with her on that, and Andrea was sure that she’d shared that insight with her receptionist and part time Spank Shop employee.

“I…uuuhhhh…it’s just hard sometimes…so I goof off,” Andrew confessed, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

“Look at me when you speak to me, Andy.” Maria reminded him firmly. “Anything worth doing is worth working hard for. You’re only cheating yourself by goofing off like that.”

“He cuts the occasional lab session or says he’s blocked,” Simone spoke up. “He offers to take me out in order to release the pressure or goes for a drive in his sports car. I might add that I paid for the car.”

“Well, my little slacker,” Maria said, her eyes taking on a predatorial glint. “It seems that Simone has the truth of the matter. I do hope you’ve had your fill of driving that car for a while, mister, because after this afternoon you’re going to have great difficulty sitting down in it for some time.”

Andrew’s face lost a shade of colour, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.


“Come here!” Maria ordered, crooking her finger at Andrew.

The young man looked at Andrea and Simone, saw he would get no allies there, and walked slowly to stand at Maria’s knee, eyes fixed firmly on the rug at his feet.

“Now what has Aunty found helps focus your mind, Andy?” Maria asked, her fingers resting on the buttons of his jeans.

“A…a…sp…spanking, Aunty,” Andrew whispered, a tear slipping out of his eye and trickling slowly down his cheek.

“What sort of spanking?” Maria continued, unsnapping the buttons.

“A…hhard one,” Andrew said in a trembling voice.

Maria unzipped the jeans and continued her interrogation. “And what does Aunty spank?”

“My bbottom,” Andrew breathed.

‘Are you wearing anything on your bottom when Aunty takes you over her knee?” Maria teased, lowering the jeans to Andrew’s ankles and having him step out of them. She handed them to Simone, who folded them neatly and set them aside.

“Shoes off too, sweetie,” Maria reminded as they got caught up on his jeans.

Andrew managed to get his shoes off without too much trouble and used his toes to push them out of the way. Simone leaned forward, picked them up and placed them by her chair.

“So, if we put all that together, darling, what do we get?” Maria asked, as she removed his underpants, leaving him standing exposed to the three ladies in the room, naked from the waist with only his socks on.

“A good hard bare bottom spanking over Aunty’s lap,” Andrew said in a hurried rush.

“Exactly right!” Maris agreed, delightedly, placing a hand on Andrew’s waist and the other on the small of his back as she guided him skillfully over her ample and waiting lap.


Maria hid a smile as she felt an insistent throbbing male member pressing into her thigh, beneath her dress. It was not an uncommon reaction from the older male clients, and it couldn’t be helped. Although it was flattering to think that she had something to do with it, she knew that in Andrew’s case it was nervous tension. She wasn’t unattractive for a woman her age, who had four children, but she didn’t match up favourably against the glamourous Simone. Maria was in little doubt that once she started to build a fire in the firm white cheeks displayed over her lap that he would soon forget about what was happening in front and devote all his concentration on his posterior.

Andrew squirmed a little as Maria’s hand gently fondled and stroked his upturned bare buttocks. The woman herself kept a close eye on the marble white cheeks over her lap. She wanted him to relax them a little first, he had them tightly clenched in anticipation of the coming spanking. She knew from experience that hitting a tensed backside could not only bruise her hand, it would also cause more and longer lasting pain to the recipient, it also meant that she’d be forced to reach for the hairbrush earlier than she really wanted and that would get Andrew a longer spanking with the implement.

A smile spread across the Italian woman’s face as the bottom relaxed under her gentle ministrations. Before he could tense again Maria slapped one of the globes over her lap sharply, the blow rang out loudly in the quiet room and Simone flinched a little, remembering the sound from her own girlish spankings, and also being keenly reminded of the stinging burning feeling that accompanied the sound of a firm palm striking bare flesh.

In a very short space of time Andrew was wriggling quite vigorously as Maria’s hand pinkened up his firm muscular young buttocks, and although he was a fit young man, Maria was an experienced spanker of young men and ladies who desperately wanted off her lap as soon as possible and held him in place easily.

Andrew’s legs started to wave around as Maria went to work on his sit spots and upper thighs, determined to turn them the same shade of burning red as the rest of his hindquarters. He was consistently yelping and squealing with each stinging cracking blow and although he hadn’t cried yet, the tears weren’t far away.

“He’s responding nicely,” Andrea told Simone.

“I haven’t seen any tears yet,” Simone remarked.

“Oh they don’t come straight away, especially with someone who has been spanked before like Andrew has. They’re not far off. Maria knows what she’s doing and how to build a spanking.”

Andrea’s words proved to be prophetic as just after she spoke tears started to stream from Andrew’s eyes.

“Ah yes!” Andrea sighed happily. “Here come the waterworks.”


Maria continued to stoke the fires in Andrea’s bottom, ensuring that the boy had a good hard cry going. This was what he needed. The tears weren’t all from what her hand was doing to his bottom, a good many of them were from the disappointment he felt in letting himself and Simone down with his studies and his work. Maria had seen it before when clients were sent to her for poor academic performance, and it had happened with her own children when they had a discussion over her knee about not trying hard enough.

“May I have the hairbrush, please, Simone?” Maria asked, as she paused the spanking. Letting Andrew lay limply over her lap and sob, as she continued to gently stroke the burning hemispheres, enjoying the heat that was radiating up off them.

Simone picked up the koa wood hairbrush, admiring it and feeling it’s weight as she passed it across to Maria.

“That’s quite a handsome item,” she said, admiration in her voice.

“Contessa K is lovely,” Maria agreed, resting it on Andrew’s simmering rear end before she used it. “She’s rather expensive.”

“Would you like one, Simone?” Andrea asked.

Simone turned surprised eyes on the professional disciplinarian.

“Kim sells them,” Andrea explained. “She can get you a Mrs Ebony, a Mama Mohogany, a Mademoiselle Cherry or a Contessa K.”

“Where do the names come from?” Simone asked, amusement mixed with curiousity.

“I named Mrs Ebony myself, she’s made of ebony. I think Kim was the one who started to call Gabrielle’s favourite brush Mama Mahogany, she felt Mademoiselle Cherry fitted her brush, because its made from cherry wood and she is a mademoiselle.”

“I named Contessa K,” Maria said proudly. “It just seemed to fit the first time I tanned a tail with it.”

“It was Kim’s tail if I remember correctly,” Andrea said.

“Oh yes,” Maria agreed. “She was a bit of a little madam when I first started. A good hard hairbrushing set things right.’

“Spanking can accomplish so much,” Andrea said with a smile.


“Have you been listening to us, darling?” Maria asked Andrew softly.

“Yes, Aunty Maria,” he answered through his sobs.

“When Aunty has to spank her big boy she doesn’t just use her hand, does she?”

“No, Aunty,” Andrew whispered.

“Aunty has a good hard hairbrush to help her get her young man back on track, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Aunty,” Andrew sobbed.

“Yes, she does,” Maria agreed, raising the brush. ”Yes, she does.”

The final word of the repeated agreement hit the air at the same time the brush cracked down loudly across the tight double bulge of Andrew’s glowing bottom, and it was partly obscured by the boy’s answering howl.

Maria smacked the brush down with metronomic precision, never smacking the same area twice in a row, instead covering the entire surface with burning kisses from Contessa K.

Andrew squirmed and kicked madly, his buttocks pumping frantically as he tried to escape and avoid the stinging blows. Maria firmed her grip and held him down. Andrew was surprised by how strong she was.

“Andrew,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over his caterwauling. “If you don’t settle down just a little Aunty is going to have to pin your legs, and if that doesn’t work I’ll ask to borrow one of Miss Andrea’s tawses and put you over the caning horse for a dose of it.”

Andrew didn’t know what a tawse or a caning horse was, but neither sounded particularly like something he wanted to experience, so he tried to concentrate on things other than the raging fires in his rear end that Maria kept diligently feeding with those hard, regular, randomly landing spanks from her hairbrush.

“My, he colours up well!” Simone exclaimed.

“He is burning brightly,” Andrea admitted. “Didn’t you ever admire your own just spanked posterior in the mirror growing up?”

“To be honest, no. I usually threw myself down on my bed and cried into the pillow until the hot sting had died down to a dull throbbing ache. By the time I thought to look the colour had faded.”

“I think seeing that hot crimson helps to drive home the message of how soundly you were spanked and makes you remember why and try avoid it in the future.”

“Does it work?”

“In my experience, no,” Andrea laughed. “I don’t think I’d get so much repeat business if it did.”


“I think he’s done,” Maria said, she administered another sizzling volley of spanks and getting sobs and whimpers. All the fight had been spanked out of Andrew and he lay over Maria’s lap and bawled.

“You may be right, Maria,” Andrea agreed, assessing the PhD student’s blazing rear end.

“Andy, sweetheart,” Andrea said gently, and the boy turned his head to look at the attractive elegant brunette with the bewitching green eyes. “Can you get up off Aunty Maria’s lap and come to me, please?”

Andrew frowned and managed to get himself up off the lap and the couch. His nose had started to run during the spanking, he sniffed wetly and used a forearm to wipe it. Andrea smiled and clicked her tongue maternally. Andrew shuffled over to her and she plucked some tissues from a box. She held one up to the runny nose, wiped it and then requested, “Blow.”

The nose was evacuated noisily and Simone dropped her head to hide a smile. If only all her toyboys were as biddable as young Andrew. Now that she knew this about him, she may keep him a little longer, after he’d completed his PhD if he was agreeable and could do so. Most of them were fun, but she’d been with Andrew longer and he was evoking strong maternal feelings in her this afternoon, feelings that she wasn’t aware she possessed.

Andrea cleaned up the boy’s tears then asked to turn around and ‘show her his colours’. He turned his buttocks facing her. “Bend a little, darling,” Andrea said, ad Andrew did so. Andrea licked her lips and examined the bottom in front of her. She then felt it, her hands roaming over the steaming hot cheeks. “Oh yes,” she cooed. ‘They’ve been set on fire delightfully. I think we could boil the water for tea on them. Simone,” she invited the other lady. “Come over here, have a good look and a bit of a feel.”

Simone took a deep breath, stood up and crossed to where her boyfriend was rather humiliatingly displaying the results of Maria’s spanking to Andrea. She looked at the crimson backside and then had a tentative rub. “My God!” she exclaimed. “They’re so hot I almost burned my hand.”

“Maria’s right,” Andrea said. “He’s been done to a turn.”

“Yes,” Simone said, resuming her seat, her mind awhirl.

“You can stand up, sweetie,” Andrea told Andrew, patting his behind playfully. “Now go to the corner for some cooling off time. You can rub on the way there, okay, but once you’re there, put your hands on your head and press in nice and tight. We’ll let you know when you can leave, honey.”

A defeated man, Andrew did exactly as he was told.


“May I have a look at that brush, please Maria?” Simone asked and the matronly woman handed it over.

“It’s still warm from Andy’s bottom,” Simone breathed as she turned the brush over in her hands, admiring the patina and the craftsmanship in it. Even if she never used it to spank her boyfriend, she would still like a brush like that on her dresser. It may even make Andrew behave better, just knowing it was there and what it could be used for.

“You can get one from Kim,” Andrea reminded Simone. “She’ll be only too happy to arrange it.”

“I may just have to.”

“I think we’ve been quite successful here today.” Andrea gave her opinion of the session.

“What do you think, Andrew?” Maria asked. “Did Aunty Maria get you to work on your thesis and start attending all your lab sessions?”

“Oh yes, Aunty,” Andrew answered definitely from his corner.

‘This won’t be the last time,” Andrea said. “He’s needed this since he was about thirteen years old, and he may always need motivation of this sort.”

“My lap will always be available,” Maria vowed, she had rarely enjoyed administering a spanking quite so much. She wished all her clients were like Andrew.

“I don’t doubt that, Maria,” Andrea said to her friend and employee. “However over time I’d like to see Andrew get over his dependence on needing someone who looks like his aunt deliver the spankings. I can see him getting the same benefit from some time over my knee and Gabrielle’s.”

‘What about Kim?” Maria asked, a smile playing across her lips.

Andrea frowned. “Kimberley Susan can certainly administer a spanking, but at this stage I think she’s a little young for what Andrew requires. I do hope that maybe Simone takes matters into her hands and over her lap in the future.”

“Won’t that lose you business, Andie?” Simone asked, although the prospect was appealing.

“Maybe,” Andrea said. “I have a few clients that receive spankings at home, but still like to come here for the odd refresher from me or one of my ladies.”


Andrew dressed quietly, with the occasional wince or whimper as the clothing contacted a particularly sensitive area of his soundly spanked buttocks.

“Tonight,” Andrea advised Simone. “He’ll just need lots of TLC. Make sure he has a long hot shower and then put him to bed early. He’ll appreciate that.”

Simone nodded, she collected Andrew and the two left the parlour, hand in hand.

Maria also left and catching the eye of a glum looking girl in reception, ordered her into the parlour she generally used to administer maternal style discipline.

Before Andrea closed the door to her parlour she could hear Simone speaking to Kimberley about getting a Contessa K model hairbrush and the girl offering same aloe cream for soothing Andrew’s battered backside.

Some good advice from Andrea to Simone.

Women Spanking Men. Simone dreams of a future visit to The Spank Shop for her boyfriend.