The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Sunday, August 17, 2014

F/M Spanking Sunday-- A Spanking Tableau

What if you were very, very rich and your tastes in entertainment ran to, shall we say, the extreme exotic? Here is a tale of a young lad caught up in a very unique business catering to the desires of older and very wealthy women.

From The Education of Paul. 

Amazon US ,UK

The house was impressive. It was a French provincial in style, set well back from the road. The grounds were surrounded by plants in front and what looked like a masonry wall to the rear. The grounds were well kept and the shrubs trimmed—not a blade of grass out of place. A maid in a short uniform answered the doorbell. She curtseyed and the fact that she was blonde and pretty made Paul wonder. And as they walked through the house, he saw others. There was a stunning long legged redhead also in a maid’s outfit. He saw several very pretty young women---all in abbreviated uniforms and performing various tasks. Another woman, dressed in a smart business suit, approached them. She was young too. Paul guessed she was some sort of secretary. What kind of rich widow hires pretty young blondes and redheads as maids?

“Madame said to tell you they are in back, in the garden. Please follow me.” She had a foreign accent, Eastern European maybe. The brunette in the business suit led the way without waiting for a reply. Tessa frowned but ushered her charges forward.

Paul marveled at the foyer. The floor was all marble. There was a vaulted ceiling and an ascending spiral staircase that led to the next level. Paintings, good ones, adorned the walls. A hallway led through some French doors to a sunlit patio. Beyond the patio was a well manicured garden. Statues and bird feeders were placed amid the plants and shrubs. The entire area was enclosed by the high wall that Paul had seen before. Three women were seated in chairs around a circular wrought iron table that bore a silver tea service.

“Ah, Miss Trask. I see you have brought the children.” The speaker was an attractive woman in her early forties, tall, blond hair pulled back from her face. She looked like an aristocratic trophy wife of Palm Springs-- carefully made up, expensive clothes, toned body, authoritative manner. Paul shuffled his feet and looked down. He didn’t know what to do or say. To be scrutinized like this by the three women was making him feel uneasy. They were sizing Becky up too. One was a big buxom blonde. She looked Swedish, had a round face, was in her late thirties and was solid--built like a hardy farmer’s wife. The third woman was tall and severe looking with dark hair parted down the middle. She was slightly older than the other two, but coldly beautiful with sharp features and high cheekbones.

“Yes, and I have a list of their misbehavior over the past month that we can discuss.”

The blond woman smiled. “And as their governess I am most anxious to hear how you intend to deal with their naughtiness, as I’m sure we all are.”
The other two women exchanged glances. The blond Swede grinned, but the tall severe woman fixed Paul and Becky with a hard look. That look, Paul decided, did not bode well for either of them. Paul shifted his glance to Tessa. She wore a worried look as if something was not quite right.

“I, uh, am surprised to see you have guests, Mrs Hyde,” she said. “I had assumed that I would be reporting only to you.”

“Surely you don’t object to my friends being present, Miss Trask. After all in their own way, each is very well versed in the ways of correcting naughty juveniles. And, I’m sure you recall our telephone conversation?” She extended her hand toward the buxom blonde. “This is Petra Standish, my late husband’s cousin. As the oldest of five children she has dealt with her own siblings and cousins on many occasions while growing up on her family’s farm in Holland.”

So, thought Paul, not Swedish. Dutch.

“And this is Mrs Irma Brezkov. She was once a headmistress at a private school in St Petersburg. A very exclusive institution. Discipline was very strict. Both of them live here now, and when I mentioned our little meeting at the club, well, they were very intrigued. So I invited them. I hope you don’t mind.”

At the mention of the name Brezkov, Paul looked at Tessa to gauge her reaction. She had raised her eyebrows upon hearing this revelation. Of course, thought Paul. She was related to the Brezkov Becky had mentioned. His wife perhaps?

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Brezkov, Mrs Standish. Children?” Tessa turned to Paul and Becky.

Becky curtsied but said nothing. “We are pleased to meet you,” Paul stammered.

Mrs Brezkov frowned. “Well, the rudeness. No one gave these children permission to address us. You, young man—what is your name?”

Now Paul didn’t know what to do. “I er, Paul, ma’am. My name is Paul.”

“Well, Paul,” said Mrs Hyde, drawing out the pronunciation of his name, “children do not speak unless spoken to. Do you understand that?”

Paul looked at Tessa who nodded.

“Well, do you, boy?” she demanded.

“Uh, yes, ma’am.” The woman’s stern glare was unnerving. Paul was blushing and shuffling his feet.

“And we must hear what he has been up to,” said Mrs Standish, with a knowing look.

“Yes,” said Mrs Hyde, casually pouring another cup of tea. “Let’s proceed with hearing about the children.” She turned her attention to her companions. “Miss Trask is their governess and she reports to me as to their behavior.” They nodded. Everyone looked expectantly at Tessa.

“So, Miss Trask, exactly what have the children done in the last few weeks. I’m sure we all want to know,” said Mrs Hyde.

Tessa opened the black bag and produced a list. They had not discussed it; instead she had decided to leave it to Paul and Becky’s improvisational skills to fill in the gaps.

Tessa frowned as she read. “Rebecca has been lax in her studies. She was to work on her composition and grammar skills and she has failed to do so. Instead I repeatedly discovered that instead of working on essays she was listening to rock music and gossiping with her girl friends.”

“Gossip among young girls is time wasting and frivolous,” declared Mrs Brezkov. The other two women nodded in agreement. “And that music is the work of the devil.”

Tessa continued. “And Paul has been insolent and disrespectful.”

Mrs Hyde glared at Paul. “Shocking, young man.”

“And that’s not all,” said Tessa directing her best stern look his way. “I hate to say this, but I caught Paul last week looking…well at girlie magazines. I suspect that this may have led to self abuse.”

Mrs Brezkov gasped. Mrs Standish raised her eyebrows and Mrs Hyde cocked her head and fixed Paul with a dark frown.

Tessa said, “I assure you, ladies, that Rebecca and Paul will be dealt with. But perhaps we should move inside…”

Mrs Hyde waved her hand. “No need,” she said when the exclamations of shock and outrage had subsided. “My grounds are very private, Miss Trask. We may deal with the children here. What do you require?” Without waiting for her to answer, she rang a little bell. The blonde maid and a rather large man wearing formal attire like a butler responded. The guy was big like a body builder. He had a completely shaved head and a thin mustache. It made him look like muscle, Russian mafia style.

“Yes, madame?” he asked.

“Anton, you and Alice, please fetch the stool. I think you know the one I mean,” she said with a knowing smile.

Anton nodded and Alice blushed. Paul guessed that she had made that stool’s acquaintance before. He felt anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Tessa was losing control of this scene. Anton brought the stool. It had a curved top inverted to form a shallow cradle and straps on all four legs.

Tessa looked at it with concern. “I will not require that. What I do need is an armless chair.”

“A chair? What do you propose to do? These children should be severely punished,” sniffed Mrs Hyde.

Tessa reached into her bag and pulled out a leather object. To Paul it looked like the sole of a sandal. It was oval with a handle at one end. “I have found, ladies, that my little leather spanker is both humiliating and painful. It will deliver a good lesson to some naughty bottoms. I propose to spank these two like the immature children that they act like.”

At this pronouncement Becky started pleading. “Oh no miss, please. Not out here in front of everyone. It is too shameful. I’m not a child and I won’t be treated like one.” Becky stamped her foot and folded her arms, pouting.

“Just like a naughty minx. All pleading and crying when it’s time to pay the piper,” said Mrs Brezkov.

“Yes indeed,” said Mrs Standish smiling broadly. “I’d know what to do with this one”. She looked right at Becky with a wicked grin.

“Do you? Then perhaps you should show Miss Trask.”

Tessa started to say something, then thought the better of it. “Of course,” she said.

I think you should proceed, Petra. Demonstrate for Miss Trask how you dealt with naughty children. And you, young lady, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

The large Dutch blond woman stood up. She was bigger than Paul had realized, probably six feet tall, with wide shoulders and muscular arms. She rubbed her hands together. “Come along, Rebecca,” said Petra, taking Becky’s arm. Becky made a show of resistance but Petra took her by the wrist and tugged her over toward the chair. She stopped by Tessa.

“May I have that?” she asked, looking at the leather spanker. Tessa handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said, and continued to pull Becky toward the chair.

 The woman seated herself and looked up at Becky. “Now, little miss, get across my knee. You have things to answer for.” She pulled and Becky tumbled across the formidable woman’s lap. Her nose dove towards the ground as her legs came up, waving helplessly as she struggled over her knee. Petra pulled up the billowy skirt, which had several layers, to reveal legs then Becky’s bottom clad in thin old fashioned silk bloomers. These hugged her bottom, clearly delineating the jouncy globes. Becky squealed, much to the delight of the ladies watching, as Petra peeled the bloomers down. Paul felt a surge in his groin as he watched Becky’s ripe bottom cheeks pop into view. He began to get an erection and it grew. He worried that it was plainly visible in the tight shorts.

Becky’s feet were fluttering as Petra took up Tessa’s smacker in her right hand. “Let this be a lesson to you, miss.” Her arm descended in a blur.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The spanker bounced off of Becky’s chubby bottom cheeks with sharp retorts. Becky wailed and struggled, kicking her legs.

“You stop that right now, young lady. You are in for a good long spanking on that naughty bottom of yours.” With that pronouncement Petra Standish launched into a protracted and noisy spanking of the girl’s bare bottom with the leather smacker.

Paul was mesmerized by the sight of Becky’s bare behind jiggling with the repeated impacts of the spanker. Tessa was right, it did make quite a lot of noise. But Paul bet it was a real stinger too. Becky’s seat began to take on a pink flush as smack after smack landed.

“Ow…ow…ow!” wailed Becky. “I promise, I’ll do better. Ow! I promise!” She wriggled in obvious distress while the little smacker made its point again and again.

“I expect you will,” said Petra Standish sternly. She continued to smack Becky’s bottom at a rate of a spank every second or so. Paul glanced at the other two ladies, watching with detached amusement at Becky’s juvenile chastisement. Tessa looked concerned. It went on for several minutes and Becky’s yelps took on an edge of genuine distress.

“There,” said the woman, after a last fast barrage of spanks had made Becky yelp and arch her back, “Now you have a good lesson, little miss.” She yanked Becky to her feet.
Becky stood. Her dress dropped and covered her behind but her hands went behind her lifting it so she could rub and shift from one foot to the other in an attempt to rub away the effect of the sharp spanking. The ladies watching all smiled broadly. Her face was flushed and her eyes were watery.

“Very well done, Petra,” said Mrs Hyde. “We can only hope the young lady will apply herself now. We will decide what else is to be done with her after we have heard what you intend to do with the young man. In my opinion she could still use a taste of the rod.” The other two nodded in agreement. The scary looking whipping stool caught the gaze of Tessa and Becky. It looked heavy and sturdy, with support feet splayed out so as to prevent tipping. The straps made it look like a medieval torture device. Who needs something like this in their house, wondered Paul.

But Paul felt attention turn to him. He fidgeted now, uncomfortable at being the object of scrutiny. He blushed. They could surely see his boner poking through the tight short pants. Mrs Brezkov frowned. “Is that young man…aroused, Miss Trask?”

Tessa stared, then cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. “It certainly appears that way,” she said. Paul felt like a bug under a microscope. They were all staring at him. He willed his hard on to subside. It wouldn’t.

 “I will tell you I knew what to do with such naughty fellows back on the farm,” Petra said. “A good spanking on his naughty bottom is what he needs. That’s what these horny lads understand, yes they do.”

“I agree, of course,” said Tessa. But she sounded tentative.

“Then we will continue with the children…as we discussed?” Tessa looked at Paul and Becky. Mrs Hyde was definitely taking over this tableau. Well, it was a lot more money, thought Paul. Tessa nodded, Paul saw.

The big woman, Petra Standish, put her hands on her hips. “You come here to me, boy. Yeh, I will cure you of that impudence. Come along,” she said, taking a seat on the chair and lifting her skirt so her thighs were bare. That just made things worse for Paul. Her thighs were bare. Paul approached her side obediently. When he stood to her right she said, “Now. Take down those britches, boy.”

Paul took a deep breath and unbuttoned his pants. Embarrassed to strip like this, he tugged the shorts down. To his chagrin, his erection stood straight out making a tent in his underpants. “The underpants too, boy,” she said, “so we can all see how naughty you are.”

When he slid these down his penis popped out and stuck straight out like steel rod. “Tsk, tsk,” said the woman. “There is only one cure for this,” she said, grabbing the appendage. Paul felt himself being lifted, effortlessly it seemed, and plopped face down over the woman’s lap. His cock rubbed against bare thigh causing waves of pleasure to shoot through him. She quickly opened her thighs then closed them clamping his member tightly.
“Now we show you how we deal with these boys.”

Splat! Splat! Smack!...........Splat! Paul felt a succession of sharp spanks. They were harder than Tessa’s. Yow! They stung. Right off the bat. And she wasn’t slowing down. The spanks fell briskly, sometimes on one cheek, sometimes on the other, sometimes right in the center of his bottom. Paul wriggled involuntarily. It was hard to keep still for this---the woman had a hand like a ham. And she was using it, lighting a fire in Paul’s behind that felt like it was raging out of control.

“Oooh…ouch…yow!” Paul couldn’t help being vocal.
“This is what the boy needs,” he heard her say. “A good smackbottom until this little fanny is red as a beet, then we’ll see if the young man is still so spunky.” She reiterated this last by launching another stinging barrage of spanks that left Paul gasping for breath. The woman was relentless. This was really hurting.

Paul felt like his ass was in flames by the time she put him on his feet. His hands rushed to his seat and he clutched his burning cheeks. But as he rubbed frantically his erection rose again.

“Will you look at that!” said Mrs Brezkov. “The boy is incorrigible.” Paul didn’t know whether to keep rubbing or put his hands in front of him to hide the bobbing penis that betrayed him.

“I know the cure for that,” she said. “Put him over the stool.”

“I have a better idea,” said Mrs Hyde, smiling. “Put her over the stool.” She gestured toward Becky.

“Wait a minute,” said Tessa. “Mrs Hyde, I really think that’s…..”

The woman cut her off. “It matters little what you think, Miss Trask. Mrs Brezkov will deal with them now.”

As if to emphasize that point, Anton placed himself between Tessa and the stool, blocking her from interfering.

Mrs Standish grabbed Becky’s arm. “Come with me, girl.” Becky could not have resisted the woman’s grip if she had wanted to. She stumbled along as Mrs Standish dragged her toward the stool. At that moment Paul noticed something else. The other woman, Mrs Brezkov, had retrieved an object from beside the table. It was a long and slender yellow wand. The woman stood in front of the stool and flexed it in her hands. It looked near three feet long and she could bend it in a semi-circle. The big blonde woman put Becky over the stool. Mrs Hyde came over and helped buckle her in. Restraints went around her wrists and ankles. A strap came up from underneath and went over her back. By the time everything had been fastened Becky was immobile---and panicked. She looked at Tessa, but Tessa was powerless. She was neutralized by the formidable Anton. 

“Now, boy, you will learn the meaning of discipline, real discipline. Strip. Take off everything.” The thin black haired woman reminded Paul of an evil queen he’d once seen in an old cartoon. She swished the cane menacingly.
Fearing the consequences of refusal, Paul took his clothes off and put them in a chair. The women watched in silence while Paul disrobed. When he was totally naked Mrs Brezkov said, “Now put your hands on your head, boy, and watch.”

Paul obeyed. He stood in that pose while the tall woman lifted Becky’s skirt up over her back to put her reddened buttocks on display. Paul’s heart caught in his throat as she tapped Becky’s bottom with the cane. Paul saw her flinch. She took a stance and drew back her arm. The cane sped toward its target in a yellow blur and landed with a sharp thwack! Becky yipped in pain.

The woman calmly lined up another stroke. Swish….thwack!
“Arhhhh….ow!” yelped Becky. Another weal appeared.
She delivered a third, then a fourth swishy stroke. The cane impacted the chubby rounds, making them wobble and placing red stripes on her flesh.
Becky cried out. “Ow…ow…please! It’s too much!” She flailed in the restraints and pounded on the legs of the stool as much as the straps would permit.

Becky sounded frantic. This was no game. The woman was whipping her as hard as she could. Paul to his utter dismay saw that his cock was hard and standing straight out again.

The woman stopped and with a thin smile regarded Paul. Then she turned to her companions. “You see? It excites him.”

“Now, young man, you will exercise discipline. You will make that thing go down. I will cane your girlfriend until you do.” She regarded Paul with a haughty smile and flexed the cane.

“Stop this at once!” Tessa demanded. “We did not agree to this, Mrs Hyde.” She started forward but Anton gripped her arm.

“Stop? But the children must be disciplined.” Mrs Hyde seemed to be lost in some imaginary world. “They are your responsibility, Miss Trask. I’m afraid your Miss Rebecca is due….”

“A dozen,” said Mrs Brezkov. “I always give them a good round dozen.”

“Very well then. Continue, Mrs Brezkov.” She smiled smugly, but then looked at Tessa. “Or perhaps, you, Miss Trask would like to take them in her stead. After all, she is your charge…” She made a twirling motion with her hand.

“All right,” said Tessa. “But let her up.”

Paul could contain himself no longer. “No. Stop.” Everyone looked at Paul. “I’ll take Becky’s strokes.”

“Well, well,” said Mrs Hyde. “A noble young man. Willing to take his girlfriend’s thrashing. How very… Tom Sawyer.” Mrs Hyde looked Paul up and down. “Are you a brave boy? Hmmm?” she asked.

“I don’t think he can do it,” said Petra Standish. “He will jump up like a scalded cat.”

“We’ll see,” said Mrs Hyde. “Come here, young man.” She crooked her finger at Paul. “If you can take twelve strokes from Mrs Brezkov’s cane, you may all go. But,” she added with a grim smile, “if you fail, if you stand up or move out of position or put your hand back…or if you merely ask for Mrs Brezkov to stop…your girlfriend will get her remaining eight strokes and, just to make it interesting, your Miss Trask will be thrashed as well.”

Tessa gasped. “No! This is monstrous. I’ll call the police. You can’t do this.” She tried to jerk away from Anton, but he merely grinned and held her more tightly.

“Ah, but you forget, Miss Trask, I can. And you well know why. Don’t worry, I’ll honor our contract. You will be paid. But the boy here intrigues me. I’ll wager, however, that he cannot take a dozen from Mrs Brezkov.”

She gestured toward Tessa. “Anton, see that she doesn’t move.” Anton smiled and grabbed Tessa’s arm. “If the boy begs for mercy, this will get interesting.”

A cold knot of fear had formed in Paul’s gut. His fortitude was all that was standing between Becky and Tessa being unmercifully thrashed. He came forward. Mrs Hyde put a finger under his chin and made him look at her.
“Now we shall see,” she said.
“Mrs Brezkov. Twelve of the very best for our brave young man.” She stepped back.

Irma Brezkov swished the cane ominously. She tapped it on the patio to get Paul’s attention. “Bend over. Fingers touching your toes.”
Paul took a deep breath and bent over. He felt totally vulnerable. Here he was without a stitch on, bent over and offering up his ass for this sadistic witch to whip it.

He heard the whine of the cane then felt the impact. It was a sharp line of fire. The pain came rushing at him like a wave. It was excruciating. He gritted his teeth and willed himself not to get up.
Swish….crack! Number two was even worse.
Swish….crack! “Arhhhh….ow!” He couldn’t be silent.

The strokes fell with long pauses in between during which the women commented. “See how his cheeks quiver. Did you feel that one, young man?”

“I think he did. See how he trembles.” All the while Paul would feel the insistent tapping of the cane on his bottom, signaling that she was lining up for another searing stroke.

 Paul felt like he was being cut in two. He flinched, tensing up, then decided, no, it hurt worse if he did that. She was spacing out the strokes, expertly it seemed. Just as the sting from the previous stroke reached a crescendo, he’d hear that awful whoosh sound and another slash of the cane would sear his backside.

At about stroke number eight, he wondered if he could hold on. The agony of the caning was cumulative, and he was losing any ability to assimilate the pain. He realized it was a contest. She was doing everything in her power to break him, employing her skills as a disciplinarian, trying to make him beg for mercy. He was drooling. Tears were pouring out of his eyes and his breath came in choking gasps.
Whip! His body jerked and he cried out.
Whip! Another stroke seared his bottom.
Whip! Pure agony—his body was a red haze of pain.

Whish….crack! “Owwww….arhhh!” he nearly screamed. The worst yet. But he had not let go of his ankles.

“That’s twelve,” he heard someone say.

“Very well,” said Irma Brezkov. “You may rise, boy.” She sounded disappointed. Paul stood. Mrs Hyde feigned indifference. With a wave of her hand she said, “take the children and go. Pay her, Anton.”

It was excruciating but somehow Paul got his shorts back on and was able to walk stiffly, back to the car. His seat was a blazing mass of pain. He could see that Becky was hurting too. On the walk back through the house one of the maids approached him and furtively stuck a folded piece of paper in his blazer top pocket. He didn’t stop to see what it said. His only thought was to get out of there.

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