Spank my Bottom, Darling - Please!: the Lives & Loves of Ardent Switches

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Every week for many a year, Friday night to be exact, time of the Frobisher family spank. She would preside, magisterially, for all to see through kitchen window the panorama. Over her lap, hems, trousers and panties down, bottoms bare in the air receiving the benison of spanking palm, the household would go – including anyone else to hand. Now all right thinking followers of spank know the old saying that “all is fair when bottoms are bared and spankers are spanked, and all shall be well”. Mrs F followed this through. When she was done, her own cheeks were roasted and toasted in their turn, by the assembled company. It was quite a sight to see. Penny as neighbour had a first-class seat, over the garden fence. As Vicar spanked she advised in clear stentorian tones: “now Vicar, dear, technique to use is outside in/alternate cheeks then up and down and right to left, then left to right across”. The Vicar complied, fell into a rhythm and the music of hand on bare cheek filled the air. You all know the drill. The old man Charrington walked over next to Joe and coughed. Charrington smiled and asked, "Is there something I can help you find young man?" Last April Joe bought a blue booklet titled One Night in a Girl's School at this newsstand from a bumbling youth behind this newsstand's counter. Joe looked at the old man with his eyeglasses and gray hair and felt safe that the old man was not be a member of the Spies or The Thought Police. "Well," Joe stammered, "I was, ah, ah wondering if you may uh, have any, oh, blue booklets." My mind raced to figure out what she was doing and then I remembered: the spatula! Ayn rubbed the cold plastic of the spatula against my burning bottom. Ayn said to me, "George, tell me the truth about my yellow panties disappearing from my dresser last month. You stole them, didn't you?"

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Well what a tour de force. In minutes that man without his cloth had gone from white to deepest red. Tasha could hardly stop herself from blurting “hooray, well done!”. Now Vicar was a chap and it was evident that lying over the lap his nature-given ‘hood had grown somewhat. Mrs F had foreseen this and carefully placed it between her legs as she had spanked away – imagine the scene without difficulty – which of course had rubbed it. The delights of a spanking for a chap is that he can get pleasure at two ends, which has a result, put delicately. Now Mrs F knew all this – of course she did – being a woman of not just a few summers and a matriarch to boot. Which is why she firmly believed that a chap who submitted to the indignity should occasionally have his reward. She kept a flannel nearby, said whilst reviewing her own handiwork “don’t worry Vicar, I’ll mop up and all will be well with the world. She reached down and very discreetly tugged a bit more. For long experience of boys and men she knew ‘better in than out’. To ‘clear the gunwales’ was, she thought, in every respect a very healthy thing.No, it was not Michelle. Then she got it. The bottom bare its owner fair was Mrs F – she lived next door. Well, well, well. Matriarch of six herself, of Family Frobisher: a husband, two daughters, two sons, a nephew and a niece. She was no stranger to give and receive, that time honoured fashion of women and men. Even so, at my school in London there was no question of being made to take even your trousers down when you misbehaved, so the possibility that my relatives might administer a birthday spanking in public across my underpants still gave me the heebie-jeebies! One early morning fair, whilst out for a walk, Penny and Tasha strolled past the church. As oft they did when Tasha was home on leave.

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I have just finished the first incident in the ‘Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls ~ Incident Log’ Now place your feet apart Samantha, you can stand with your bottom on show until the end of class.”That made me even more squirmy, as I thought ‘pants’ meant underpants, and so a pants-down spanking meant a bare bottom punishment. Later, of course, I learned that ‘pants’ in the US meant trousers or jeans, so at least you could keep some semblance of modesty.

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And what a sight met their eyes. Vicar sat, trousers at knees, his own bare cheeks upon the chair wood (Tasha nodded in approval). Across his lap lay a bottom bare of sizable girth, and rounded cheek being turned white to pink with vigour and vim. In short he was giving it what for with a good deal of welly thrown in. But who was the owner of those bare acres? She could be heard, but face not seen. Now Penny, my dear”, said Tasha “I know I have been out of line as chum and deserve attentions to my bare bum. May I say, we’ve just had a masterclass in how it’s done from Mrs F, shall we set to?”Then from out of nowhere (I didn’t see a handbag) she produced a tube of balsam soothing cream, and began to rub some into my cheeks which by now were very hot and pink. Well, that boyish bare which was ivory white soon started turning pink. As Mrs F spanked so she instructed, she just couldn’t help it: “now Vicar, its all about rhythm and flow, rhythm and flow, varying speed, altering pace, alternate cheeks. Raising the hand half-way – crash it down – the hand full way – wallop! – Now a flurry, now three, one on each cheek, one in the crease, a hammer hand, an open palm, now six hard to finish”. I am still humiliated and ashamed from what happened. When my parents returned home I asked my Momma if she gave Ayn permission to spank me. Momma gave me a funny look and said, "Why no, what on earth are you talking about? Did Ayn spank you?"