Over Her Knee: A Spanking Tale of Male Submission

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Sometimes, a whole class could get a ‘double stripe’ for rowdiness. Then, if you just got a single stripe on top of that, you were for it. A bit unfair, but this was Anne’s situation. I had also accumulated three stripes this way myself a couple of times, but for some reason escaped with just a telling-off. 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. 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. I countered by saying that I was too old to be spanked, and asked what would happen if I simply refused to submit to the punishment, as she wasn’t my parent nor my teacher. This was actually very untypical and rather daring of me – but Aunt Pam simply said that I was most certainly not too old to be spanked. “Boys are at their naughtiest in their teens – they need more spanking rather than less as they get older!” she said.

We’ll see,” Vera said. “Perhaps if you are very, very obedient from now on, I’ll save you that disgrace. Still,” she added, “you can’t be let off scot-free. Fetch me Lucille’s paddle,” she demanded, sternly. “It’s time I got to work.” In the corner is Ma, a stout middle aged woman. Sat on a stool by her side at a piano, is Pa. she tells stories, spanking stories, he….just now and then….tinkles a little accompaniment.Why haven’t you taken his pants down?” Doreen asked with interest. “Oh my dear, that’s far too vulgar.”“But you used to cane Rory on his bare bottom?”“Ah that’s different – he’s my son, whereas this one is merely in my charge. I’ve no desire to see what he’s got down there! But pants up nice and tight, and we have a perfect view. Now we’ll see who’s boss, young man!” Tasha said “now Penny, you know you want to and as parish council member it is your business to know what’s what, which includes Vicar’s tendency –he is quite new. Call it parish practicalities, and by all means I’ll bend and bare for old fashioned justice when we are through…” Now it was Tasha’s turn – her long-suffering spanker was getting impatient so she should complete the task , or else. Besides, it was getting a little cold. English graveyards are never warm. So, Tasha without much further ado, unbuttoned the dungarees. The flaps unflapped, hooks were unhooked and buttons undone, until at last the trews and panties came down (not Raeger but M&S) revealing a sight of total delight – a deeper-cheeked rear of width and girth. Penny gave out a cry of delight – “what an inheritance my dearest friend – your splendid bottom bare – which in time will no doubt be passed on to generations yet unborn”.

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”. Although we did have the cane at my sweet little primary school in Wembley, London, in the 1960s, I managed to avoid it. However, at my senior school I was regularly caned and slippered as we all were, going into the 1970s. Next weekend, I’ll be moving out of my apartment and into the master bedroom here,” Vera stated as I copied what she’d written. “Make certain it is ready for me. You may take one of the boys’ rooms. I’ll need to be near my sister’s records, and all her other responsibilities, if I’m to do an adequate job with them.” Yes, ma’am,” I said through my sniffles. “I’m sorry, and I won’t let it happen again.” I felt the paddle resting against my bottom, and I prayed Vera would not raise it again. Surprisingly, my former depression had disappeared, completely replaced by the long-familiar feelings of respect and fear of further punishment. It was a week after the funeral when I finally mustered the courage to enter Lucille’s study, to search for the discipline agreement I wrote all those years ago. Lucille had a growing business in commercial accounting that she ran out of our home. She left her business to her younger sister, Vera, who was doing similar work, and I did not want Vera to happen inadvertently upon our discipline agreement when she searched through Lucille’s business accounts and records. That was a part of our relationship I would not want to share with anyone, and most certainly not with Vera.Tasha meanwhile was lost in an ecstatic bliss – her bottom stung like crazy. When at last the business finished she asked her mentor a special favour which touched Penny to the core: “Gosh, your spanking hand is tip top shape these days. Are my cheeks red, they feel that way, but are behind so cannot see” :