The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Heather's Surrogate Mother (F/f)

Another entry in my showcase of other writers who seem to have disappeared from the internet. Today's story was written by an author who went by the handle rdbut but signed his stories as "Chuck". He wrote very much in the tradition of Will Henry who was such an influence on my early writing. This then, is a tale based upon a fairly unoriginal plot idea, the young girl who goes off to college but who still needs motherly discipline and finds it with a willing landlady. I say unoriginal, because it is now. It wasn't back then.


Heather Conrad lay on her stomach across her bed studying for an upcoming college exam feeling warmth from the glow in her bottom that was still minus the panties it had lost earlier in the evening. But the warmth in her backside was matched by that she felt in her heart for the woman who put it there.
The 19-year-old had, just a few minutes earlier, spent a painful 10 minutes over the lap of her landlady, Sylvia Watson, getting one of the several spankings she had received since renting a room from a little more than a year earlier. Over that span of time, Heather had grown to love the 56-year-old woman who had become a strong force in her young life.
There was something about lying helpless over her sturdy lap that gave her the strange feeling of being cared for and protected. Her own parents were too busy traveling the social route to spend much attention on the upbringing of their lovely daughter, so her bottom had gone largely without the old-fashioned discipline that she had needed.
So starved had Heather been for love that she moved out and headed for a nearby Midwestern city. Fortunately, her high school grades were good enough to get her into a state college, so she took a job as a waitress at a diner to earn enough money to buy books.
But, needing a roof over her head, she began scanning the classified ads in the local newspaper, and one caught her eye. It was from Sylvia, stating that she had a room available for a young woman attending college. Heather quickly responded and made an appointment for that same afternoon.
Sylvia made it known that her late husband had left her well fixed financially, but she missed having someone else in the house.  Her maid had just quit and she offered Heather rent-free accommodations, including three meals a day if she wished, in return for her helping to keep the house clean. The teenager quickly accepted.
Everything went smoothly for the first couple months, but Sylvia began noticing a change in Heather’s demeanor. Normally an outgoing girl, she was becoming morose and finally asked if she was having a problem.
“I’m having trouble keeping my grades up,” she replied. “Classwork came easy for me in high school, but things seem so much harder now.
“They are harder, honey, because you’re in college now, but perhaps I can help you, Sylvia replied. “I used to be a school teacher, so I can probably serve as a fairly good tutor.”
“Oh, that would be great,” Heather exclaimed, her enthusiasm returning.
“You know, Heather,” Sylvia said, “it’s really none of my business, but I have noticed that you spend a lot of nights out with friends—time that could be spent studying.
“I know,” the girl responded. “I guess it’s being in a new city and seeing a lot of new things. And I’ve acquired some great friends at college. I guess I just have no control over myself.”
“That’s all well and good,” Sylvia said in a motherly tone, “but you can’t expect good grades if you don’t take time to read your assignments.  I enjoy you being here with me, and you have been good in helping me clean house, but I really want you to succeed in later life, and that means a good education.”
Heather hung her head. “You’re right, Mrs. Watson,” she agreed.
“I’ll try harder.”
“That’s easy to say,” Sylvia replied, “but sometimes you need a boost.  You told me about your parents and their lack of guidance over you. I would like you to look upon me as a surrogate mother.”
Heather’s face suddenly glowed. Not only did she have a place to live, rent-free, but an older woman she could lean on. But there was one thing she hadn’t counted on.
“If I am going to be that surrogate mother, however,” Sylvia added, “I must have the same control over you that I would have over a daughter.”
“What do you mean?” Heather asked.
“You’re 19 years old, Heather.” Sylvia explained. “You’re legally an adult, but you were denied something very important during your growing-up years, and that is discipline. You said yourself that you have no control over yourself and I am willing to assert that control, though I will have to have your full cooperation. Without it, I don’t see any point in trying to tutor you.”
“I-I still don’t understand,” the pretty brunette said.
“There are different forms of discipline,” Sylvia pointed out. “For instance, you can be disciplined on the job by being docked wages or demoted in rank. But the type I’m talking about is old-fashioned type used by mothers against their offspring down through the ages. I’m talking about good, sound spankings when they’re warranted.”
“Spankings?” Heather exclaimed questioningly. “Do you mean a spanking on the b-b-bottom?”
“To be more precise,” came the reply, “on the bare bottom.”

                                                       -  -  -  -  -  -

As she lay with the textbook opened in front of her, Heather recalled that conversation very well. She remembered how surprised she was that spanking an 18-year-old girl was even suggested but, when “bare bottom” was added to the equation, she was temporarily speechless.
That was where Mrs. Watson best demonstrated her motherly bearing, telling Heather to sit down with her while they discussed the matter rationally. The woman’s power of persuasion soon had Heather agreeing with everything she said, especially when she stated that “everyone’s bottom should be spanked at least once in his or her life.”
So it was that limits were set for Heather to live under, most of them dealing with her school work. She was also informed that if her social life resulted in late hours and loss of sleep it could also result in a penalty. “I think 11 o’clock on a school night and 1 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays are fair curfews, don’t you?” Sylvia asked.  Heather nodded her assent.
Thinking about that, Heather reached back to rub one globe of her perky bottom, for it was failure the meet the curfew the previous night that resulted in the spanking that was causing it to tingle and burn at the moment. Had she waited one more night, it would have been Friday and she would have had almost an hour and a half later and still meet the required deadline.
But it wasn’t Friday. It was Thursday, she didn’t enter the door until 11:40 and Sylvia, who was a late night television watcher, was waiting up for her. Noting the late hour, she told Heather to go on up to bed and they would seriously discuss the matter the following evening.  From past experience, Heather knew she might as well call off any plans for Friday night and possibly the following night as well.
It was 7 p.m. Friday when she was escorted into Sylvia’s bedroom and the two sat side-by-side on the bed. “What have you got to say for last night?” the woman asked.
“Nothing,” Heather admitted. “I just lost track of the time.”
“You know I don’t like to spank a young lady of your age, Heather,” Sylvia said as she touched the girl’s hand, “but I can’t allow you to go unpunished. We both agreed on the curfews, and this is the third time you’ve broken them. I let you off with a hand spanking the first two times, but now I’m afraid I’m going to have to use the hairbrush as well.”
Heather bowed her head. “Yes, Mom,” she said, having adopted Sylvia as her second mother, “I understand. I’m truly sorry.”
“I know you are, sweetheart,” the woman replied. “I hope this will be the last time I will have to spank you, at least for this reason. Now, while I’m getting the hairbrush, you slip into your nightie.” The two stood up and Heather began removing her clothes while Sylvia took the hairbrush from her vanity, then once again seated herself on the bed.
As Heather had removed the last article of clothing, Sylvia declared, “There’s no sense putting on your nightclothes yet since your bottom is going to be bare during the spanking anyway. Just come lay across my knees.” She patted her lap as an invitation.
Birthday naked, the pretty brunette took a few steps forward, then draped herself face down over the woman’s lap. She recalled the feeling of nervousness earlier that evening as she settled into position for what proved to be one of the hardest spankings she had ever received.
Sylvia’s palm slapped vigorously and repeatedly onto both buttocks until they were vivid red and feeling quite warm. Despite her attempt to keep from crying, Heather was bawling like a baby by the time the woman stopped. But that was just the appetizer, the main course being served up by way of the hairbrush that set her fanny cheeks on fire.
And that was what she was left with on that evening. First, Sylvia put her arms around the spanked girl as a sign that all was forgiven and rubbed cold cream into the hot flesh, then sent Heather to her own room and told her to spend the rest of the evening getting caught up on her school work.

                                                         - - - - - -

It had been less than 20 minutes since Sylvia left the lovely teenage brunette with a spanked-red behind and was now putting the dinner dishes into the dishwasher. She felt great affection for the girl and was seriously trying to help her get through a troublesome time in her life.
Brought up without fear of retribution, it was amazing that Heather had turned out to be, basically, a good girl. But, had she been left on her own at this early age, Sylvia had to wonder how long she would remain that way. There were temptations in the world that the girl was yet unable to deal with.
Sylvia was being honest when she told Heather that she did not like to spank her, but, in her heart, she felt sure that she was doing the right thing. Over the past year, the girl had come to accept the spankings as part of life, something most children has learned at a much earlier age.
Her mind traveled back to the first-ever spanking she had administered to Heather and she smiled understandingly while recalling the embarrassment the girl felt when she was over the punishment lap and her panties were being lowered. She begged to be allowed to retain that last covering to her bottom but, when she was admonished to behave herself, she gave up the fight and relaxed as the panties continued on their southward journey. They stopped midway down the thighs. In that position, she looked like a perfect angel, but with the soft-skin buttocks of a female human being.
It was a posterior that, encased in a pair of tight pants, would cause any boy to find himself with a tent in the front of his trousers. But bare, as it was, it just looked like a naughty bottom waiting to be punished. It was ripe, apple round and colored rapidly under just the hand and, when the hairbrush was used, it glowed crimson and hot to the touch.
But, since that first time, Heather had always taken her spankings well and, when the “sentence” came down, she offered no argument and voluntarily placed her buttocks in position over the corrective lap.
Sylvia decided to check on the girl and see if she had fallen asleep yet. But, after knocking softly on Heather’s bedroom door, she opened it and was surprised to see her still lying on the bed studying, with her red and bare bottom still turned up to the ceiling.
“Are you all right, dear?” Sylvia asked.
“Sure,” came the reply. “I’m just about ready to turn out the light.
“I hope you learned something tonight, honey,” the woman said as she walked forward and placed a palm on the spanked left bottom cheek, finding it to still be quite warm.
“I did, Mom,” Heather replied. “You have a way of getting your point across to a girl.”
They both laughed.


millsy70 said...

I could have used that care as a child..ty

Anonymous said...

I really like this story. It seems to be one I keep coming back to.