The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Writing the Spanking Scene -- Frank and I

A classic of Victorian erotica, Frank and I, as everyone probably knows, is the story of a young woman who masquerades as a boy. Given to an English gentleman to be cared for as his ward, he finds it necessary to discipline the "boy" and discovers lo and's a girl. The gentleman turns out to be a rake and the book follows his and Frances' sexual and flagellatory exploits. A soft core movie, complete with a spanking (caning) scene was produced in 1984 called "Lady Libertine". Since most are familiar with the opening scene, I've chosen a later chapter. But it makes little difference because the style of writing and the types of scenes described is pretty much the same throughout. It's a bit long, so I've divided it into two parts.



In the months that followed this incident Frances often had cause to rue her cunning, in thus having induced me to poke her by tempting me to spank her first. For since I now knew how voluptuous it was to spank her as prelude to a poke, and how greatly my pleasure in each activity enhanced the other, I was naturally eager to repeat the double delight. My sweet girl therefore found herself, to her chagrin, being spanked far more frequently, and more vigorously, than ever before. Not that she took any lasting harm from such treatment. On the contrary, it seemed to me that her lovely bottom had grown plumper and prettier each time I lowered her drawers for punishment.
I jokingly suggested as much one day as we lay entwined together in a lazy after-glow of pleasure. 'I am sure that spanking is good for your bottom, my dear,' I remarked, caressing her still hot and rose-red cheeks. 'Since it has been receiving regular chastisement, it has grown more spankable than ever. Perhaps we should increase the treatment - to a daily basis, say?'
Frances pouted reproachfully. 'Charley, you are a cruel monster! Already my poor bottom is made to suffer quite often enough. There is no other woman in London, I am sure, who must endure being spanked so much as I.'
'Well, perhaps you are right, my dear. Nonetheless I think I should write a small pamphlet on the subject, to be circulated privately: `Spanking as an Aid to Posterior Pulchritude'. I'm sure it would be very well received by the gentlemen - and perhaps by some of the ladies, too.'
'And no doubt,' suggested Frances saucily, 'you would be willing to give the ladies private tuition in the subject?'
I laughed. 'I am not sure if my strength would be adequate to the demand, my sweet. But perhaps one or two of them, if they were particularly young and pretty, with nice plump bottoms.'
The remark was wholly facetious, as I was blissfully happy with Frances and felt no inclination to seek my pleasure elsewhere. But as it happened, I did indeed spank another young lady, soon after this light-hearted conversation took place.

My young cousin Harold, who had recently married, came to visit me, bringing with him his bride, Madeleine. She was a very attractive girl of 20, dark-haired and petite, with a fine figure and a pretty face, marred only by a hint of petulance about the mouth. Harold was clearly besotted with her. For her part, she seemed to take his devotion as no more than her due, treating him with a casual tolerance that more than once verged on contempt.
The day after their arrival, we were sitting in the arbour, at some distance from the house. It was a fine hot afternoon, and Bessie was serving tea.
'Harold, dear,' observed Madeleine, 'I seem to have left my sunshade in my room. Be an angel and fetch it for me.'
'Bessie can bring it when she fetches the sandwiches,' I suggested.
'No, no,' said Madeleine. 'She will not know where to find it. Harold will be much quicker.'
Harold was already on his feet. 'It is no trouble, Charley, really. Of course I will fetch it, my dear.'
He was back within three minutes, perspiring slightly. 'Here you are, my love.'
Madeleine emitted a little gasp of irritation. 'Really, Harold - this is my pink sunshade! It clashes horribly with my dress; surely you must have known it was the white one I wanted! What a fool you are!'
I couldn't help raising my eyebrows at this outburst. Harold, turning to retrace his steps to the house, caught my expression and gave me a sheepish, half-apologetic smile.

That evening after dinner, when Harold and I were smoking in my study, I broached the subject of Madeleine's behaviour. Since the loss of his parents in childhood, I had been to him something of an older brother, and I felt entitled to be frank.
'My dear fellow,' I commenced, 'Madeleine is a very lovely young woman - '
'Oh, she is! She is!' interjected Harold eagerly.
' - but I can't help feeling her attitude towards you leaves something to be desired. This afternoon's display of temper over her sunshade, for example. Such outbursts, if they are not checked, will make you an object of general derision, and must eventually poison your marriage.'
Harold looked troubled. 'Yes, I know what you mean. But believe me, Maddy is really a sweet and good-hearted girl - just a little imperious now and then. You must remember that she is the only child of well-to-do parents, who have always indulged her wishes.'
'In other words, she has been thoroughly spoilt.'
'Well, that may be putting it a trifle harshly. But indeed she has always been accustomed to getting what she wants.'
'Evidently so,' I remarked sardonically. 'But in my opinion there is one thing she wants very badly which I suspect no one has ever given her. And I think it is high time, my dear cousin, that you as her husband repaired the omission.'
'Really? What is that?'
'An extremely sound spanking,' I replied.
Harold looked horrified. 'Charley, you can't be serious! Are you really suggesting that I should - smack Maddy's bottom?'
'Certainly I am. Very soon, very hard, and the treatment to be repeated as often as necessary.'
'But she is twenty years old!'
'All the more reason. First, because she is behaving not like a civilised young woman, but like a petulant brat, and so should be treated accordingly. Secondly, because females of all ages often richly deserve to have their bottoms smacked - and are nearly always all the better for it. And thirdly because I think that, once you grow accustomed to the idea, you will find it rather enjoyable.'

A look of intrigued surmise passed across Harold's face, but was soon succeeded by a more pensive one. 'You may well be right, Charley. But I don't think I would ever dare do it.'
'A pity. Because I think it needs to be done, and the sooner the better - for her sake no less than yours.'
Harold suddenly brightened. 'Charley, perhaps - could you - that is....' Reddening slightly, he tried another tack. 'From what you say, do I gather that you have sometimes spanked grown women?'
'Now and then,' I admitted, smiling inwardly as an image barely forty-eight hours old swam into my memory - my sweet Frances naked across my lap, the lush, lovingly smacked curves of her soft bottom quivering at each slap and blushing like a peony.
'In that case - I know it is a strange favour to ask - but could you...?'
'Yes?' I asked rather cruelly, since I knew quite well what he was struggling to say.
'Could you - would you - that is, er, chastise Madeleine for me?'

As the reader may imagine, this idea had already crossed my mind. Madeleine was a very desirable young lady, and from what I could deduce of her figure, I suspected that her bottom would prove shapely and eminently spankable. Furthermore, she richly deserved the soundest of smackings - more so than any young woman I had ever met. Altogether, it was an appealing prospect.

'Well,' I mused, feigning reluctance, 'it's a delicate matter, my dear fellow, to spank another man's wife - even at his own request. Are you quite sure that you wish me to do so?'
Harold hesitated, and then nodded. 'Yes, Charley - quite sure.'
'Very well, then. In that case there are certain things that must be understood and agreed between us. As you must realise, when a man smacks a nubile young woman's bottom, there is a strong erotic aspect to the matter. So if I am to chastise Madeleine, it must be in your presence and with your consent. About this there must be no doubt - in her mind or in yours.'
Harold looked somewhat apprehensive at this, but nodded his agreement.
'Good. Also, this is no case for half-measures. If Madeleine is to be spanked - as we agree she should be - she must be spanked in earnest. Therefore, I must stipulate that you do not interfere, whatever your personal impulses towards leniency. How hard, and for how long, she is smacked will be for me alone to determine. When you take over this duty - as I very much hope you will - you may exercise your own judgement in such matters. But on this occasion, all such decisions are mine. Agreed?'
'Very well. But you will not be too severe on the poor girl?'
'You may trust my experience, my dear cousin. The female posterior is too well-upholstered an area to take any lasting hurt from the flat of one's hand, no matter how strictly applied. Madeleine may suffer some discomfort - indeed, I shall be much to blame if she does not - but not the least permanent damage. After a few hours the smarting and the redness will have passed, and her bottom will be as white and as pretty as ever.'
Harold smiled shyly, a trifle embarrassed by this reference to his bride's more intimate charms.
'And finally - by the same token that the job should be done thoroughly, or not at all - the spanking must be administered on her bare bottom.'

At this, Harold looked utterly aghast. 'Charley - no! That is going too far! Surely it is not necessary!'
'I assure you, my dear fellow - there is really no other way to administer a proper spanking. Not only is it far more effective in terms of pain, but the reddening of the bottom-cheeks provides an ideal means of gauging how soundly, and how evenly, the punishment has been inflicted.'
Harold rose, and paced agitatedly about the room. Finally he came and sat down again. 'No, I am sorry, Charley. I know you have experience in these matters, but this one point I cannot concede. Consider - Maddy, to the best of my knowledge, has never been physically chastised in her life. That may be regrettable, but there it is. Now you propose, not only that she be spanked by a man whom she met just two days ago - '
'To be fair, it was you that proposed it, my dear chap,' I interjected, but Harold was not to be deflected.
'Not only this, which will come as a severe shock to her self-esteem, but that her most intimate areas should be exposed to his gaze. No, Charley, no! The insult to her modesty would be too great.'
I argued, but in vain. On this point Harold was immovable, and on further reflection I came to feel that he might be right. To spank Madeleine through her drawers might detract from my pleasure, but would still effectively punish her petulance and conceit. A bare-bottom spanking from a man she scarcely knew would utterly shame and humiliate her, which was not the purpose.

Also, as Harold pointed out, Madeleine's undergarments at this time of year would be of the lightest stuff, and would provide little protection. Though I should miss seeing the blush raised by my smacks, they would sting her bottom almost as smartly as if it were bare.
This agreed, it remained only to fix on a suitable occasion for the punishment. Should I engineer a pretext, or wait for events to offer themselves? Since Harold and Madeleine were due to stay another fortnight yet, I elected to see what transpired. Time enough, if no opportunity arose, to stage-manage the drama.
In the event, there was not long to wait. Late the next evening we were all three together in the drawing-room. The servants had retired, and the talk - fuelled by some excellent claret - had turned to politics. We were discussing the recent Turkish crisis, a subject of which it was apparent Madeleine knew very little, although this in no way inhibited her from expressing quite decided opinions.

Finally, one particularly fatuous statement roused Harold to mild protest. 'Pardon me, my dear,' he ventured, 'but I really do not think that can be the case. You see - '
Furious at being contradicted, Madeleine flared up at once. 'And what would you know about it, pray? Might I remind you that my father was a Cabinet Minister, while you are - nothing.'
'He is your husband,' I observed quietly. Madeleine swung round, her eyes flashing - but being, I think, slightly in awe of me, hesitated to attack me directly. 'And as your husband,' I continued, 'deserves to be shown a little respect, at any rate in public. Your father, my dear, may be a man of more consequence than any our poor family can boast, but I fear he was sadly negligent when it came to teaching you manners.'
Madeleine gasped with rage. 'How dare you criticise my father - or my manners?' she cried.
'The two, I suspect, are closely connected. Your father evidently never saw fit to discourage you from these displays of gross ill-temper. But I can assure you that if any daughter of mine had behaved as you are behaving now, she would have been turned over my knee and treated to a sound spanking.'
Madeleine rose to her feet, beside herself with fury. 'How dare you! Why, you, you - ' She swung round on Harold, who had been following our exchange with apprehension. 'How can you sit there and let him abuse me, you - worm!'

'Now, Maddy - ' Harold began feebly, but I interrupted him. 'Harold, I think this has gone quite far enough. It is high time the young lady was taught some manners. Will you attend to it, or shall I?'
Harold gulped. 'I - er - I - ' he stammered. His gaze veered from me to Madeleine who, stamping her foot pettishly, seemed about to lash out at him, then back to me. His jaw set. 'I think you had better deal with it, Charley. If you don't mind.'
'Not in the least,' I responded. Half-rising from where I sat, I grasped Madeleine by the hand. Taken unawares, she was pulled off-balance, and before she knew what was happening found herself sprawled face-down across my lap, nicely positioned for what I had in mind.

Though I had spanked a good many young women in my time, they had all submitted more or less willingly to their punishment, and had never put up serious resistance. Madeleine, however, was a wilful girl and had no intention of submitting. She writhed and struggled wildly, twisting and turning in her attempts to break free, kicking and striking out with her fists. 'Let me go, you brute!' she screamed. 'How dare you! Harold! Harold!'
Luckily her strength was no match for mine, and I found her spirited resistance more stimulating than otherwise. All the same, it was necessary to restrain her wild movements a little, or I could scarcely give the task in hand the attention it warranted. Capturing both her wrists, I held her arms folded behind her back, effectively pinioning her. The sleeves of her dress were trimmed with pink ribbons; loosening these, I used them to bind her arms together, well out of the way. She was still kicking furiously, but this caused me no problem.

I could now attend to the turning up of her garments, which I proceeded to do with a sense of pleasing anticipation. Since the weather was warm, she was wearing relatively little: a light muslin dress, which I tucked up well above her waist, and two fine linen petticoats. Beneath these was a white silken chemise which I now drew slowly up, regretfully reflecting that it would be the last barrier I should allow myself to remove.
Madeleine was by now in her stockinged feet, since her shoes had been sent flying across the room by her kicks. Her legs were clad in pale blue stockings, secured above the knee by royal blue satin garters, and her thighs were white and smooth. And then, as I drew the chemise well clear, there were revealed elegant white drawers of the sheerest silk, trimmed at the legs with snowy lace, and clinging close around as pretty a pair of cheeks as one could wish to see.

Madeleine's bottom was smaller and less full than Frances's, but no less shapely. Indeed, it was perhaps even more alluringly rounded, the plump, dimpled flesh swelling out into near-perfect hemispheres. Such posterior beauty, I reflected, made her lax upbringing all the more deplorable, since if ever a girl was shaped by Nature to be spanked thoroughly and often, it was Madeleine. Still, I had to admit that, in one sense at least, she was a very well-reared young lady.

The young lady herself, feeling her clothing being set aside, was by now almost hysterical with fury. 'This is an outrage,' she shrieked. 'Help! Harold! You coward, why don't you defend me? Help! Let me go at once!'
Harold had watched these events as though mesmerised. Now he found his voice. 'No, Maddy,' he said, in low but distinct tones, 'I am sorry, but I shall not help you. Charley is quite right. You have been given your own way far too long. You thoroughly deserve a sound spanking, and I think it may do you a great deal of good.'
My preparations were now all but complete. Having secured Madeleine's arms, my left hand was free to grip the silken fabric of her drawers at the waist and pull it taut until it clung like a second skin over her ripe young curves. Harold was right: such fine material would afford her bottom little protection. Indeed, stretched as it was tight as a drumskin, it might make the spanks sting yet more keenly than on her bare flesh.
Under the pretext of smoothing out the last small wrinkles, I permitted myself to stroke the cool, swelling globes. They felt deliciously soft, and I experienced a momentary pang of regret that this might well be the only chance I should have of smacking them. Still, even a single opportunity was a rare privilege, and I intended to make the most of it.

Everything was now ready for what was most likely the first spanking of Madeleine's young life. 'Now, young lady,' I said, raising my hand, 'you're about to receive the punishment due to ill-mannered girls: a good hard spanking on your spoilt young bottom. It's a task that your father, or some other suitable person, should have discharged long since. But better late than never, and I think this chastisement will help make up for such sad neglect.' I cast Harold a glance of interrogation. He swallowed hard, then nodded, and I brought my hand down with all the force at my command.

SMACK! 'Owww!' wailed Madeleine as my hand met the plump curve of her right bottom-cheek, and she kicked and writhed like fury. SMACK! 'Oww! Stop it!' The left cheek this time, and once again she struggled wildly, but I had her in a firm grip. Smack! Smack! - two more stingers, right and left again. 'Oww! No! Help!' Smack! Smack! 'Oh you brute! Let me go!' Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! 'Ow! Harold, make him stop! Ow! Help! Owww! Owwwww!'

Ignoring her squeals of protest, I spanked her steadily and hard on her squirming rump, covering every inch of the charming target area, and paying special attention to the tender undercurve where bottom meets thigh. Each smack, laid on with full force, rang through the room like a pistol-shot, eliciting a fresh wail of anguish. Soon a delicate pink tinge began to peep through the white silk, testifying that the young lady's first chastisement was meeting with a suitably warm response.

From time to time I cast a glance at Harold. He was watching fascinated, his eyes fixed on his young bride's wriggling bottom. His face expressed a strange mixture of emotions, partly concern and partly - it seemed to me - a furtive delight. Once I heard him murmur, 'Charley - isn't that enough?', but I ignored him, and he made no move to intervene.

If Harold lost his nerve, as I feared he would, Madeleine's first spanking might well prove her last. If so, I was resolved it should be one she would not soon forget, and continued to spank her luscious young rear without mercy, turning a deaf ear to her protests. Smack! 'Oww! Oh Charley, please - (Smack! Smack! Smack!) No, please, oww! Harold, make him stop, I implore you! (Smack! Smack!) I'm sorry, truly I am! (Smack!) Oh no more (Smack!) - owww, please! (Smack! Smack! Smack!) Oh my poor bottom! Aaa-haah! Oh help, no! Oww-owww!' Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! SMACK!

By now a rich, rosy hue glowed through the taut silk of Madeleine's drawers. Though the thinnest of veils, the flimsy garment was a veil nonetheless, and I felt sorely tempted to peel it down over those well-spanked cheeks and feast my eyes on their full, blushing beauty - and then to recommence the young lady's punishment on her bare and quivering flesh. But I resisted the impulse. I had given my word, and would keep to it.
So I administered a final half-dozen stingers to each silk-clad mound in turn, then paused to survey the results of my handiwork. I felt quite proud of it. Even through the covering material, it was evident that every inch of Maddy's lovely bottom, now suffused with a rich crimson hue, must be burning hot and exquisitely sore. It had been a most thorough spanking - at least ten dozen of the very hardest spanks.
Madeleine lay trembling and gasping across my lap as I rearranged her clothing and freed her hands, before helping her to her feet. Hands clasped to her anguished derrière, she stood glaring at us, her pretty face flushed (though scarcely rivalling the roses of her other cheeks) and wet with tears. I thought for a moment she was going to fly at me, but instead she let out a wail of fury and rushed from the room.
Harold watched her go, a worried expression on his face. 'Do you think I should - ?' he asked, half-rising.
'If I were you, old chap, I'd leave her alone for a while. Later, when the soreness of her bottom has subsided to a warm tingling, you may find her more receptive.'
'It was an extremely severe spanking you gave the poor girl.'
'No more than she deserved. And I think it will have taught her a lesson.'
'All the same, I think I should go to her.'
'As you wish, old fellow.'

Part 2 tomorrow.

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