Grandma in Charge: spankings for mother and daughter

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Come to think of it, the domme looks more like Jennifer Tilly in "Dancing at the Blue Iguana" (she plays a nutjob BDSM stripper/dominatrix). A film everyone should see at least once. I held out my hand, albeit with a dollop of attitude, but Aunt Pam said: ““You silly boy! I’m not going to cane your hands – there’s far too much risk of injury, especially as you play the piano. There’s only one place God has decreed that naughty boys should be punished, and that’s on the bottom.” You better get it for me." I snapped. There was a sudden chill in her voice, all previous friendliness gone from her voice.

This was a further bombshell – I’d never been told to take my trousers down for any punishment before. I just stood there transfixed, my heart in my mouth. I was definitely having a huge adrenalised reaction, and I froze like an animal caught in headlights. This very naughty little boy needs his bottom spanked hard and he’s refusing to obey me – can you help me with him, please?” I’m sure Aunt Pam deliberately used humiliating, babyish language. This angered me and I became quite sullen and sulky. How do you want me, Aunta?” she asked, staring at her knees. I just looked at her. She explained very lucidly that she felt that if her behaviour had pushed me to want to whip her the way my mother had – and she had heard enough stories to know what that meant – then I ought to do it.Mildred went to Ivy’s, where she met Betty and Mary. Like the fire in the plump bottom of our naughty girl, news of the good irls downfall began to spread. 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?” Well, another thing which Penny noticed, was not surprising in itself but she took with utmost discretion and tact, although she was feeling very like that herself – a wetness on the lap where Tasha’s weight was bearing. Her instinct was to ignore but note – Tasha would sort that on her own. Yet, she took it as a compliment that she and Tasha could share such things – a bottom bare, the natural juices, all so healthy – that a spanking sometimes produces when done as it should be – vigorously, as Mrs F would say. Karen liked the strange feeling she felt (in a certain in a certain intimate area) at being exposed. Except in special cases. She’d even tried to have the class of spank re-formed. So girls could learn technique, if called.

Suddenly, I was glad I had stopped. Although she had been audibly crying, I was not expecting her face, which was almost as red as her behind, covered in mucus which ran from her nose, and swollen with the strain. Her bottom lip was trembling and she was breathing in that stuttered, shallow way which comes from crying. I saw in that face all I had felt myself as a girl after putting my naked bottom at the mercy of my mother. Karen took the note, her hand shaking slightly. She could feel the cheeks on her face flush. “No Mummy I do not have any homework tonight.”

Mummy noticed, and the other W.I.Women noticed. Not only noticed, but mentioned it, in a subtle way. “Your Karen is making a fine young lady, she’ll certainly turns some heads one day!” 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. Now she is a strong and independent woman with a career and family of her own – but sometimes, when I look at her, I still see the girl in the naked body of a woman, only 16 years old and scared, who willingly took her punishment that night because she was brave and strong enough for both of us when we needed it. That's too early! At home I get to stay up until midnight!" "This isn't home with your parents. You will abide by my rules now." "And if I don't?" I never did well in school. I didn't really care. I had people to see, places to go, things to do. Besides, what did it matter? It was only 8th grade. I thought that I was a big deal. At 13, I was spoiled rotten. It was summer vacation. I loved summer. It was my chance to catch up on TV shows I missed and play video games that I loved. It was also a chance to sleep late and not have to deal with those annoying teachers.

There was nothing outstanding about the interior. It seemed like a home. Aunt Christine gave me the grand tour of the house. Two bathrooms, one upstairs, one downstairs, bedrooms upstairs (both hers and mine), kitchen, dining room and living room. She told me to sit down in the living room, which I did. She sat down across from me and said Soon her bottom was a lovely red, spreading down to her upper thigh. Mummy remembered the sit spot and how it stung, so delivered ten right across the point where her voluptuous cheeks joined her thighs. How they bounced, sinking in, then springing up instantly, and how she wriggled trying to pull free of the pain. But Mummy held her firmly, a tight grip around her waist holding the hand that tried to protect her. This annoyed Mummy, she was in mid flow!

To say the least, the meal was a slow somber affair. Mummy had given her a small portion, knowing that her tummy would be in knots. Soon the table was cleared, and the pots washed. Once they were all put away, Mummy spoke. “Up you go.”Karen climbed the curved oak stair case slowly, her head down. She reached the landing and sulkily walked to her door. In she went and shut the door behind her, resting against it. She cried, she had let her Mummy down, she had been naughty girl. After all her praise, she was now a naughty girl, about to get a bare bottom spanking I am too,” I told her, and then we both started crying. We hugged and sat on the bed. I held her in my arms while she sobbed. We talked for a long, long time, about how difficult it was for both of us, how angry and disappointed we were with the situation – and with Donna. Admitting she was mad at her mother for disappearing was a big step for Jo, and I felt that we had done all that was needed to make a new start. After a moment of silence, I was about to tell Jo to put her gown on and go to bed, when she pulled away suddenly.

Seeing a girl’s pants was unheard of in everyday life, so for it to be sanctioned, legally, was almost akin to waiting for execution where you were not only punished, but legally invaded and destroyed, like in an act of war. It was both somehow thrilling and terrifying. The adults who mostly protected you could also punish you. This kindled in me my first great ‘love’ in the murky world of shadows – the desire to see a pretty girl spanked. I had a wonderful half an hour pretending I was hunting, following every small sound of creatures moving around the undergrowth. Then I realised I was lost. Really lost. I went in what I thought was the right way for home, but nothing looked familiar. I began to cry.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!” 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. 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. When I finally reached 50, I had to force myself to stop. It felt to me as if an extra two or three hits wouldn’t make that much difference. I did stop, though, and helped Jo to stand up.