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

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There is always a rather rowdy, ribald crowd, with plump bare bottomed lasses on their knees giggling. The majority are plump older women, with ‘their girl’. We go and sit, she is about to start a tale….not verse, not poetry, but something akin to Chaucer, and his Canterbury tales. 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. 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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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”. Penny got a little cross said “will you be quiet or we’ll be caught and then we’ll see who gets it. I’ve a good mind to wallop you now, am in the mood, Lord knows. If I know Mrs F, tables are about to be turned, which we should watch – so your bottom bare can wait for a spectacle that’s rare – our Vicar is clearly a spanking giver, not receiver and he’s about to get it from Mrs F good and proper, if my name’s not Penny!”

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https://penzu.com/p/9427cac2 on In Three’s ~ Number 14 – Samantha Tries the Other Side ~ Part Seventeen 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. There must have been over 30 people present, family and friends. Charlotte pretended to resist, but in the end she quite happily and provocatively laid herself over Leanne’s knee, and there were lots of cat-calls, whoops and whistles. I’d never seen anything like this in my life before – a pretty 20-year-old girl virtually volunteering to be spanked in public. Rather out of keeping with the cold weather outside, Charlotte wore skin-tight white leggings. It almost seemed as if she had deliberately chosen to wear something saucy to get spanked in. Penny said, “What, now and here? Tasha, darling girl, you’ve’ got a walloping coming your way, hell or high water, but what do you mean? I’m taking you home by the ear, to deal with your rear…”.

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Peggy and Donald told me that they’d spanked all their kids growing up, and that they’d all turned out fine. They were amazed that my parents didn’t spank me, and surprised that we didn’t have to take our trousers down for the cane at school. In the Grand Rapids Bible Belt, it was pants down for a spanking, whether at home or at school. A window was open in that small space known as the vestry. As they passed by an unmistakable sound emanated out, rooting them to the spot. It gave me a little flutter in my tummy, not only because of what it was a public endorsement of something I naturally assumed should always be private, but because my own birthday was coming up! Peggy and Leanne teased me about that prospect of an upcoming birthday spanking, bought the paddle (for some reason it had an English crown on it!) and told me all about the tradition of birthday spankings in the States as we drove on. Well Vicar look startled but in the face of matronly will, he complied. It was indeed quite a scene. Mrs F pushed herself off the spanking lap, bottom bare red-pink all over – majestic and regal, plump and broad, Tasha thought, with possibly the deepest cleft she had ever in her young life seen. In that moment a plan was formed that before she left for Norland-land, she would pay a visit to that lap, if she could possibly afford. Tasha felt the juices flowing, and had to restrain from bursting in on that scene, crying “please, please, spank me!”So ask you, Editor, do you think this is a most unfair treatment from my sister? I don't think it is right for one sibling to spank another. What do you think?

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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. Tasha said, “Penny, now listen we’re both hot and bothered. No need to go far. This churchyard’s large, let’s find a grave stone and you can set to…”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. I felt a pain in my stomach and said, "S-s-s-spank me? But I did nothing wrong! I don't believe Momma said that for a second! I haven't been spanked in ten years!" 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?" So Tasha over lap, bare in the air, in turn squeezing Penny’s cheeks. She then announced in a while, as all is fair and all is fine with Penny the same touching and patting the target fair, transfixed and with a far away look. Then came the realisastion and the announcement: “Time to swap places, o chum of mine. In three words, it’s my turn! So over my lap you go.” And so it was, and so she did. Give and receive. The two-day car journey from New York to Grand Rapids, Michigan was thrilling – it took in Niagara Falls, drive-in hamburger joints and Howard Johnson’s 47 flavours of ice-cream (whatever the weather). At one filling station, however, I saw something you don’t see in the UK – a novelty birthday spanking paddle…

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Sure enough a ringing instruction rang out, clear as a bell, which was their cue to resume their viewing position: “right, Vicar, I think you’ve covered the terrain. Now we change places and I show you how it’s done. Only fair when bottoms are bare that givers are also receivers”. At no point did the encounter become overtly sexual, although I sensed Leanne did want to touch me more intimately. But somehow I didn’t want that at all – I just loved the attention to my bottom and the heady mix of my hot, well-spanked cheeks with the cool, aromatic cream. It was delicious, and I could have stayed there like that all night. Joe lived in the Proletarian quarters and worked at a factory producing bomb fuses. He was a greasy faced youth of 19 who lived in his parents flat in a quarter six miles north of the Ministry of Truth. One Friday evening after work Joe felt restless and wandered into a newsstand next to the Lemon Tree Cafe. An old gentleman, with the name Charrington on his name tag, stood in the newsstand and smiled genially at Joe who fingered some of the magazine titles. They were mostly chess magazines such as Chess Theory in Relation to INGSOC Today, and Youth League Chess. There were a few party publications in relation to Big Brother and Newspeek magazines but Joe wasn't looking for anything like this. He wanted a "blue" booklet. A blue booklet was an illegal work called blue by the proles because of the blue plastic the booklets were wrapped in. Joe heard a rumor at work that being caught purchasing or possessing a blue booklet was punishable by 5 years in a forced labor camp. However, Joe was a desperate lonely youth who wanted to read something that would excite him after a week of drudgery in the factory.

Tasha just tingled a great deal more, and longed for her fingers to go and explore down in that place which sends you to space, but that could wait, and Mrs F’s own technique she just had to see. (A little plan formed in her head). I was relieved that Charlotte had kept her leggings on, scant protection though they were, but as if she read my mind, Peggy added: “Pants down birthday spankings for the boys always, but not the girls. That wouldn’t be proper.” I am writing to your publication for advice on something that happened to me which I found most unfair and humiliating. I am an 18-year-old living in my parents' house along with my older sister, Ayn. Ayn is 25 and 5'10", 185 pounds, with shoulder-length blonde curly hair. She is a bossy sister who dresses provocatively in short skirts and sleeveless blouses. Last weekend our parents were out of town and they put Ayn in charge of me. I don't think it is right for a grown man to be under the care of his older sister! Momma put a 22:00 curfew in effect, but I didn't worry about the curfew as Ayn said she was going out dancing with her friends and wouldn't return until late. I enjoyed the clear spring evening with my friends at an outdoor INGSOC lecture and returned home around 23:00. I was stunned to find my sister waiting for me with her arms crossed in the entryway of our split-level house.