The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Saturday, December 27, 2014

F/M Spanking Story Sunday -- Miriam's House

Here is a tale that has some potential. It may be part one of a longer saga or it may have never been completed, but it's a good start. This came from Usenet, circa 1999 and was penned by Jason Chattsworth III. As we know, all blue blooded preppie boys are into being spanked by their girlfriends.

    Miriam's House
            After classes, Norma and I met for snacks in the Student Union.  Wavy, black
hair framed her beautiful, dark complexion.  She tried for the Naomi Campbell
look, and got it pretty close:  beautiful smile,  perfect teeth, pouting lips,
and perfect body.   Norma was a goddess, and I would do anything for her.  More
to the point, and perhaps more honestly, I would do anything that I hoped would
get me into her bed.

            Over nachos and pop, she told me about an A she had received on her Economics
research paper.   I praised her strong efforts, then showed her a C that I had
received in History.   The night before the test I had been out partying instead
of studying.   "I really need to try harder like you," I said.   "My parents
paid a lot of money to send me here, and every time I choke like this,"  I
smacked the offending C paper,  "I feel like I'm letting them down." 

            "You seem like an intelligent guy, Jason.  I'm sure you could do better."

            Good news and bad news.  I was pleased that she considered me intelligent, but
at the same time, I was embarrassed that she agreed that I wasn't putting forth
my best effort.  Somehow, producing sub-standard work didn't seem like the best
way to impress a woman.

             Looking across her drink at me, Norma seemed to want to say something, but
she was holding back.   "What?"   I finally asked.

            She giggled.  "Am I that transparent, Jason?"

            "No," I said.  "I mean, I know you're shy about telling me something, but I
have no idea what that could be.   I hope that we can tell each other
anything.  For example, I'm dying to go to bed with you."

            She smiled.  "I know, but I'm not ready for that yet..."

            "And I respect that," I said, feeling elation and hope at her use of the
word, YET. "You're worth waiting for."   However, I'd hoped that she was ready
now.   "So what are you too shy to tell me?"  I asked.

            "Okay, then, Jason."   Her complexion darkened in what I had come to realize
was a blush.  I pinken-up when I'm embarrassed, but she became even redder,  just one of the many things I loved about her.  She looked around and lowered her voice to a whisper.  "Have you ever been spanked?"  

            "Spanked?"   Of all the things I had expected Norma to say, that took me by
surprise.   However, after I'd made such a big deal of how we could talk about
anything, I couldn't balk now.   "Well, sure.   My dad used to spank me, but
not since I was 12."

            Norma licked her lips.  "How did he go about it?"

            "Well, he would take me down to the basement.  Then he would have me drop my
jeans, and bend over and grab my ankles.  Then he would give me about 12
stingers with a big, old wooden paddle."

            "Did he make you drop your underpants too?"  she asked.

            She was embarrassing me, but I wanted to appear mature and worldly, something
very important to a Freshman in college, so I tried to maintain a cool
composure.   "No, he never made me do that."

            "Did it hurt?"  asked Norma.

            I sighed.  Where was all this leading?   "It  hurt when I was little, but by
the time I was twelve, it wasn't so bad.  Maybe that's why he stopped.  I guess
he figured he could  make a bigger impression by grounding me, and withholding

            "What sort of things did you get spanked for?"

            "Smart mouth sometimes, other times bad grades.  Telling lies.   Oh, and I got
caught smoking once."   Then I decided to toss it back at her.  "What about
you?   Were you ever spanked as a child?"

            "Never,"  Norma said.  "My parents didn't believe in corporal punishment." 

            "Oh,"   I said, disappointed.  I'd hoped we were leading up to some juicy
stories, but apparently not.   "So you've never been spanked."

            "I didn't say that," said Norma with a secret smile.  "I was never spanked as
a child, but I have been spanked as an adult."

            "Wow."  I hadn't expected anything like that.  "How did that come about?"

            "You've met my roommates Miriam and Lydia.  We have a special arrangement
among ourselves.  We spank each other if we don't get good grades, or if we
violate the rules of the house.  Like if we sluff-off scheduled housework or
yard work when it's our turn, things like that."

            "I see."    I didn't really, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.
All I could think about was this beautiful woman bent over taking a spanking
from another beautiful woman.  Miriam and Lydia were both as hot as Norma.  I
felt a tightening in my jeans.  "Do you girls spank over your clothes?"

            Blushing, she said, "No, bare bottoms.  Miriam says it hurts more that way.
Plus she likes to measure the progress of the spanking by how red and marked we

            "I see."    My jeans became even tighter.  "Do you spank with your
hands, or do you use a paddle or something?"

            "Depends.   For a first offense we might just get a hand spanking.  For a
repeated offense, we might get a hand spanking, plus the paddle.  For the
really bad stuff, we get all that, plus the cane."

            Fortunately, my growing bulge was hidden under the table.  "And have you ever
been caned?"   I asked.

            She nodded.   "Miriam caught me smoking in her house.  She doesn't allow that.
 She gave me the works on that occasion.   Hurt like hell.  That damn cane left
marks on my bottom for almost a week.  She said if she ever caught me smoking
again, she would give me a punishment day.  That would be an entire Saturday,
and I would get several spankings from both Miriam and Lydia throughout the
day.  It worked.  Not only don't I smoke in her house anymore, I stopped
smoking altogether."

            "And another offense is bad grades?"  I was beginning to realize where this
was heading, at least part of me hoped that's where it was heading.  Another
part was hoping I was wrong.  

            "Yes, tuition is very expensive.  Sure I work a job after classes, but my
parents are sacrificing for the tuition too.   Maise says that punishments keep
us from slacking off."

            "Does it seem to help?"  I asked.

            She smiled again.  "Well, I just got an A on my Econ paper, didn't I?   I was
getting Cs earlier in the semester, before Miriam implemented our spanking
policies.  And our house is usually pretty clean.   Miriam's rules also."

            "So Miriam makes the rules?"  I guess I had entered stalling mode.  I wasn't
so sure I wanted this conversation to enter the next phase. 

            "Well, it's Miriam's house.  She inherited it from her parents and there's no
mortgage, so she lets us live there for living expenses.   As long as we follow
her rules.  It's a good deal, plus Miriam is a senior and she’s teaching us to be more

            It seemed to be working.  The few times I had visited Norma at the house, it
had been immaculate.  And she was making excellent grades.  "Does Miriam ever
get punished?"  

            "Well, Miriam says she's bound by the same rules and penalties, but so far she
hasn't broken any of the rules and she's an honor student, so it hasn't come
up.  I've gotten punished four times.  Lydia's gotten it six times.  She keeps
forgetting to take out the garbage on trash day.  The last time she forgot, she
got the cane."

             Like I said, I had a good guess where this was leading, but I hesitated
before taking the final plunge.  We stared at each other for several seconds
before I finally asked,  "Why are you telling me all this?"

            She took a deep breath before she said, "I've only known you a month, but
your grades hover in the C and B range.  However, you seem like a very
intelligent guy, and I'm sure you could make As if you really applied
yourself."   Suddenly, I knew I was right,  and I felt a tightness in my gut.
"And I'm willing to help you achieve you're full potential," she said.

            "Help me how?"  But of course I already knew what she was going to say. 

            "I think you deserved to be punished for your C paper, especially since you're
capable of so much more."

            There it was, out in the open.  "You want to spank me?"   She didn't say
anything more.  There was no need, she had already said it all.  For a long
time I didn't reply.  I didn't bother to ask if she was serious, because I
could tell from her expression that she had meant every word.  She reached
across the table and took my hand, interweaving her dark fingers with my pale

“If you’re game, I am,” she said with a mysterious smile, and gathered her things,
getting ready to leave. “Follow me.”

            Then she stood,  picked up her books and wove among the noisy tables toward
the exit.   It was her firm bottom undulating under her tight skirt that
finally decided me.  Maybe if I let her punish me, it would lead to something
more, a classic case of a male thinking with his genitals.  Grabbing my books,
I  quickly caught up with her.  On the steps outside, she said,  "Both of my
roommates have classes this afternoon, Jason.  We would have privacy."

            "What if they come home early?"   Looking for an excuse,  I hadn't expected
the punishment  to arrive this quickly, especially since I hadn't agreed to it
yet. I guess the very act of following her indicated my assent.   Norma had
just taken it for granted, and I hadn't said anything to disavow the
impression; quite the contrary.  It was already too late to back out without
looking like a weenie.

            "They won't.  Cutting classes is one of the most serious offenses.  We get the
cane the first time for that one.   And they know I'm done for the day, so they
would be afraid I'd catch them."

            "Listen. This spanking thing – is this for real? Does it hurt?"

            "Miriam says that if the punishment isn't painful, then it won't be a
deterrent.  Without a real and serious punishment we won't modify our behavior.
 In other words this won't be fun for you."  She held my hand as we walked
through the park, and we looked like any other enamored couple strolling along
the paved walkway.   Who would have believed that this beautiful woman was
taking me to her house to beat my butt?  Then we were past the fountain and off
campus. “But it will help you to bear down on your studies, so there is a benefit. I like
you and I want you to do as well as me. Then we can be together.” She smiled at me.
“You want that don’t you?”

            What could I say?

            Miriam's house was within easy walking distance of the campus, and we got
there all too quickly.   We strolled up the sidewalk to the two-story brick
house, and stopped under the overhang of her porch. 

            At the door, she kissed me, a lingering, warm kiss that stopped just short of
tongues.  She pulled away and said,  "Okay, Jason, this is your last chance to
change your mind.  Once we go through that door, you must do whatever I tell
you until your punishment is over." She unlocked the door and swung it open.
"I also want you to realize that you will be the only one nude.  This will not
lead to a sexual encounter.  After your punishment, you'll have to leave."
Then she stepped into her house.  My stomach was in knots and I was
apprehensive as hell,  but I followed her inside.

            We put our books on a table in the foyer, then she led me to the parlor.  It
was a small room, but a mirrored wall made the area seem larger.  The softness
and friendliness of her face, hardened to a firm, determined expression.  She
had me take off my shoes and shirt.  "Okay, Jason, stand in the corner while I
get things ready."

            Half-naked, I felt self-conscious, as I stepped to a point where two walls
joined at a right angle.  "Lock your hands behind your head,"  said Norma from
behind me.  What had I gotten myself into?  I wondered, as I complied with her
instructions.  "Now leave your hands like that until I tell you otherwise,"
she said.   I wondered how many times Norma had been in this same position at
Miriam's command.   Had my sweetie's tummy felt as knotted as mine did at that

            Norma was silent, but I could hear the rustle of her skirt as she moved behind
me;  a chair scrapped across the hardwood floor.   Startled, I felt her hands
on my waist, then they slid around to my front and fumbled with my belt.  "Keep
your hands on your head,"  she whispered, as she unfastened my buckle.  Then
she unsnapped my jeans, and lowered my zipper.  The denim sagged and rolled
away from my hips, then she was tugging, forcing the material down my thighs
until they lodged at my knees.   "Stay like that,"  she said.   Then I could
hear her skirt rustling about the room behind me again, as I stood there with a
bulge in my jockeys.   I heard the chair move again, then her warm hands were
at my hips again, and her fingers slipped under the elastic band of my shorts
and slid them down.  My bare butt felt cool in the air conditioned room, as my
shorts joined my jeans at my knees.   My erection jutted toward the corner, and
in my embarrassment  I was glad I faced away from her. 

            She kept me like that for several minutes, while she bustled about the room.
I had the impression that she wasn't really doing anything other than delaying
the moment:  building up my apprehension of my impending punishment.  And it
was working, to a point.  She was taking this so seriously, I had no doubt that
she intended to spank me as significantly as she could.  However, since this
was my first "offense,"  according to Miriam's rules, I should just get a hand
spanking, and I doubted that Norma could do me much damage.  After all, during
my last spanking Dad hadn't brought me to tears even  with a wooden paddle.
What was this frail, young thing going to do with just her hand?  Then I
remembered that Dad had only given me 12 prescribed swats.  Norma had not
mentioned how many swats she would give me, or a time limit or anything.  I
suddenly realized that I had no idea how long this punishment would last, and
that made me all the more nervous.
            "Okay, Jason, it's time,"  said Norma.   "Turn around."   My face was hot with
shame as I turned around and saw that she was sitting in a straight-back chair
that she had moved to the center of the room.  I was very conscious that I had
exposed my erection to her, but she seemed to ignore it, instead staring firmly
into my eyes.  "Why are you going to be punished, Jason?"

            "I --   I got a C on my test."

            "You're capable of much better, aren't you  Jason?"

            "Y - yes,"  I stammered.  "I'm not living up to my full potential."

            Norma gave me a grim smile.   "I intend to help you live up to your potential,
Jason."   Her eyes wavered, then widened a bit as they settled on my penis. 
"You seem to be enjoying this too much,"  she said.  "Let's see what I can do
about that."   Then she smoothed out her skirt.  "Lay across my lap."

            Somehow, I hadn't expected that.  I mean, there she was sitting in a chair so
I guess I should have figured it out.  My dad had always made me bend over and
grab my ankles;  however, Norma obviously had other ideas.  And she was in

            I stepped to her side and found that I was facing the mirrored wall.  I could
see myself, fully erect, standing next to this beautiful woman.  My face was
beet red, contrasting starkly with her chocolate complexion, and my penis was
just inches from her face.  Behind me there was another mirror, so with the two
mirrors working together, I could see my pale butt.   For a moment I imagined
her taking me into her mouth, but that's not what happened.  Instead, she
grabbed my wrist and tugged me forward.  Awkwardly, I settled across her lap,
my feet on one side, my hands gripping the chair legs on the other side.  My
erection pressed against her firm thigh, but if she noticed she gave no
mention.  In the mirror I saw her look down at my pale bottom then raise her
hand.  "Here we go, Jason."  Her hand smacked on my left cheek with a meaty
pop.  A slight sting registered on my consciousness, and I had time to think,
"not so bad,"  before her hand exploded on my other cheek, with more force this
time.  A heavier sting, but still not too bad.  In the mirror I could see two
pink hand prints glowing on my bottom. 

            Then she spanked me again, several smacks in rapid succession.  She turned up
the heat, but nothing I couldn't handle.  In the mirror I could see her hand
rising and falling;  I could hear the slaps and I could see my reddening cheeks
jiggle with each blow.  I saw her grim facial expression, which scared me but
excited me at the same time. This went on for several minutes;  she didn't
spank all that hard, but she spanked with the precision and steadiness of a
metronome.  Through the stinging, I felt a nice, warm glow, and my erection
became even tauter.

            In the mirror Norma's hand was a flurry of motion as she repeatedly struck my
butt:  left, right, up, down, covering the entire area of my bottom, leaving no
bit of flesh untouched.  I was a deep crimson all over.   It was finally
starting to hurt;   I involuntarily kicked at a particularly hard swat and I
felt my cheeks part.  I hoped I hadn't exposed my hidden orifice to my beauty's
eyes, but if she had seen anything I didn't want her to see, she made no
comment.  She wasn't allowing anything to distract her as she continued to
pound my butt.   Amazingly her force increased, actually pulling gasps from me
as well as a couple of groans.  It was starting to sting.

            "Maybe we're finally starting to get somewhere,"  said Norma, as her hand
continued to bounce from cheek to cheek.  Yes, it was definitely hurting;  I
was kicking more frequently now, but I gripped the chair legs as I flinched
with every blow. A fire was building on my bare bottom, the intensity increasing with each smack.

 Finally, she stopped.  "Stand up,"  she ordered.    I stood
and rubbed my sore bottom.  My smooth flesh was warm to the touch, and in the
mirror a deep crimson covered both cheeks.  She had warmed me up considerably,
and at one point I had actually been hurting. However, now that it was over, I
could only feel a warm glow, that I found to be rather pleasant, as must have
been evident by my erection.  This time Norma made no effort to turn her eyes
away from my arousal.

            "I could feel it against my thigh,"  she said, in a tone that was more
thoughtful than aroused.  "You're obviously enjoying this too much, aren't you,
you naughty boy?"

            There was nothing I could say to that;  my penis said it all.

            "Technically, I should stop now,"  said Norma.  "This was your first offense
for poor grades, and you've graciously accepted  your prescribed  hand
spanking.  However, this thing,"  and she nodded at my cock,  "indicates that
the punishment wasn't severe enough.  You obviously aren't in great discomfort,
and I'm afraid you haven't learned your lesson.  And if that's the case your
grades won't improve and this spanking will have been for nothing.  In fact you
might have enjoyed this so much, that you'll deliberately get another C, just
so you'll get another spanking for the same offense.  In other words I'm afraid
I might have given your poor study habits positive reinforcement."

            I wasn't entirely sure where her line of reasoning was heading, but I was
starting to feel uncomfortable standing with a raging hard-on and freshly
spanked bottom in front of  my fully dressed girlfriend.  However, I was
excited that she felt there would be a next time;  that meant she considered me
to be her ongoing project.  

            "I think you need more punishment today,"  said Norma.  "I haven't made a
strong enough impression with just my hand, so I think the paddle is called
for."   She was looking me straight in the eye, and she seemed to be waiting
for something.  "Don't you agree?"  she finally asked.

            She wanted my permission.  I had endured the prescribed punishment, but she
wanted me to voluntarily accept extra punishment.  Well, the hand spanking
hadn't been so bad:  mildly discomforting, but even more exciting.  How bad
could it be?  So I said,  "Whatever you think is best, Norma." 

            She smiled, then the stern expression dropped over her face again like a hood.
 "Bring me the paddle."  She pointed to a small table next to the door, where I
noticed a mahogany paddle for the first time.  It was difficult walking with my
pants around my knees;  they hobbled my movements like shackles, and somehow I
found that even more humiliating, because it seemed to emphasize my punished
butt.  I didn't like retrieving the paddle for my own punishment.  My face was
hot with humiliation, and my butt was warm from the recent spanking.  I was a
mess.   The paddle was shaped like a fraternity paddle,  and it was heavy in my
hand, much heavier than the paddle Dad had used on me so many years ago.  It
would do a lot of damage and I started trembling with fear.  What had I gotten
myself into? 

            As if reading my mind, Norma said,  "The paddle is intended for repeated and
more significant offenses.  Since this is your first offense and you are
voluntarily accepting extra punishment, I will go easy on you this time."   I
felt a momentary sense of relief that quickly evaporated at her next words.  "I
will only give you 25 swats this time, instead of the 50 swats, Miriam normally

            She was standing next to her chair and reached for the paddle;  reluctantly, I
handed her the instrument of my correction.  Twenty five swats with that
monster seemed like an AWFUL lot.    "Bend over  and hold onto the seat of the
chair,"  Norma ordered.  "In order for you to receive the full effectiveness of
this paddle,  we both need to be standing."

            Bending over, I placed my hands on the chair;  the seat was still warm where
her sexy bottom had rested just moments before.  "Grip the edges,"  she
directed.  "This is going to hurt, and you'll need something to hold onto." 
As I followed her instructions, she knelt behind me and tugged on my pants.
They fell to my ankles, and she had me step out of them.  I was now completely
naked, not that anything significant had been covered before, but somehow this
made it worse.  At least  I didn't feel "shackled"  anymore.  I quickly
realized that wasn't for my benefit. 

            "Spread your legs,"  said Norma. 

            I inched my legs apart, but apparently not enough.  I felt her paddle tapping
my inner thighs, forcing them even further apart.  When Norma was finally
satisfied, I knew my parted cheeks were revealing too much;  my testicles
dangled freely, and the head of my penis dug into my belly.

            "Now we begin,"  said Norma.  Immediately, I heard a loud meaty crack;  for a
moment there was only numbness, which quickly evaporated as  pain rushed in to
fill the void.  I gasped, but held my position.  The next swat caught me lower,
where the cheeks join the thighs.  This time she pulled a moan from me, and I
almost stood up, but the third stroke hammered me back into place.  I actually
yelped.  Then she delivered a quick salvo of five, which brought me up on my
toes.  My entire bottom burned with raw fire.  I knew I couldn't possibly take
any more, but then I realized we weren't even half-way done yet.

            "Looks like we're making progress,"  came Norma's calm voice.  I realized that
my erection had eroded, and my limp penis now dangled between my thighs.
"You're no longer enjoying this, are you?"

            "No, Maam."

            Since she had accomplished her goal and spanked me limp, I hoped she would end
it early, but that was just wishful thinking.   She measured out each bruising
swat, one at time with a noticeable pause between each one, so that I could
experience the full, fiery effect of each blow. 

            At first I merely flinched with each swat, but I was soon yodeling and
twisting and kicking in an excruciating ballet of pain.  Somehow, through it
all I managed to hang onto the chair and maintain a reasonable semblance of the
proper positioning.  Finally, it was over. 

            "Okay, you can stand,"  said Norma.  I stood and rubbed my bottom;  this time
the flesh was no longer smooth, but hard and pebbled all over, and very hot to
the touch.  "So did you enjoy that, Jason?"

            "No, Maam."

            "Are you going to work harder at your scholastic endeavors."

            "Oh yes, Maam.  Definitely."

            "Okay, then you may get dressed."

            I dressed as quickly as possible, and the heavy material of my jeans pressed
painfully against my well-punished butt.  "From now on,"  said Norma, "you must
show me all of your papers.  Anything lower than a B will get you more
punishment.  Next quarter, you won't be allowed to earn anything lower than

            "But what about Economics?"   I almost whined.  "That's my worst subject."

            "Then you'll just have to study harder.  Or I'll paddle harder."  I knew she
meant it, and that was something I wanted to avoid.  By this time she had
escorted me to the front door.  "You must leave now."

            "But couldn't we study together, or, or ... something?" 

            "Sorry, but I have an important matter that demands my immediate attention..
Besides, I know what you mean by 'something,'  and I told you from the
beginning that wasn't going to happen today.  This session was strictly
discipline, nothing else."

            Heavy sigh, as I stepped onto her porch.  At least she let me hug her, and she
gave me a warm kiss.  As we were pressed together, I felt her nipples taut
against my chest, and suddenly I had an inkling of that "important matter" that
demanded her attention. As if sensing my new awareness, she abruptly pulled

            "See you tomorrow,"  she said.  As I walked away, I looked back a couple of
times, hoping that she would change her mind if she saw how "good" I was
behaving.  However, by the time I got to the end of her sidewalk, she had
disappeared into her house, and I had only a closed door to look at.  Maybe
next time, I told myself hopefully.  Maybe next time...


Anonymous said...

Not sure this story is going anywhere.

Cali Mom said...

I liked it - wish there was a part 2. :)