Over Her Knee: A Spanking Tale of Male Submission

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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. NOTE FROM THE ORIGINAL: My favorite stories are about the beginnings of spanking relationships. This piece is an unauthorized sequel to a special favorite of this type that appeared in the fiction section of the Disciplinary Wives Club titled, “Guess Who Runs This Household” by Ralph. My sincere compliments to that author, and I hope he does not mind that I have written this sequel. 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. 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. She sits, legs open, her chin on her hand, elbow on knee. “Hello all, I think you’ll like this un!”

This all changed when I was 13. Aunt Pam was a Christian fundamentalist, and in my teens I’d sometimes stay weekends or for a time in school holidays at her lovely house in Amersham, and she became a kind of tutor to me too. 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. 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. My second great desire in this weird and shadowy dimension was to be spanked myself by a stern, no-nonsense older female. This was kindled in me by Aunt Pam, with the help of her friend Doreen, who lived with her.Thank you, William,” Vera said shortly. “Leave me now and don’t disturb me while I sort things out in here. You may put the time to good use in straightening up the rest of the house,” she added. “I’m sure you never would have let it get to this condition while my sister was alive.”

When we sat down she asked why I wanted to be spanked. I told her what had happened and that I could not ask my mum. She said you should be careful with what you wished for. I knew I wanted this and she said, “Okay, I will only use my hand but pat my foot if it hurts too much.” I was so excited that when she took my jeans down there was a growing bulge already in place. She laughed with amusement and a trace of delight as she slid my underwear down and then secured me firmly over her knee. Penny sat on very cold stone, at first a yelp and then a wriggle, then settled her cheeks in for the duration. Tasha draped over the matronly knee, Penny, though bursting at the seams to begin, stroked the target of her frustration and admiration – the magnificent moon of her pal. So recalling some of the lesson learnt from this morning’s tutorial show, she raised her hand above those cheeks and whapped it down as first shot in an opening salvo. The barrage went on and Tasha did shout out, most satisfactorily “ow!, Oh!, Ah!, aaah” and of course then added “that hurts!”. It is an old line but time-served. Ever since I had the seat of my pants heated by a pretty teacher in front of the class, I have been hooked on spanking. Not only did it give me a warm glowing feeling, I derived some inexplicable thrill from the public embarrassment and loved the control that this teacher had over me 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”.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. 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. Slight of stature Vera may be, but she is what would be called “wiry” in a man—strong and athletic in a compact frame. I managed to stifle further outcry for the next dozen spanks, but Vera was applying the paddle with at least as much authority as Lucille ever did. Eventually I could no longer keep my distress under control, and I began to beg and plead for her to stop. When this had no effect, I cried out and promised to mend my ways. The paddling proceeded unabated. I ultimately surrendered completely and lay sobbing in submission as Vera continued to apply spank after burning spank to my naked and defenseless bottom.

On the first day of my visit, we all hit it off great. Kate was very nice to me, and Denise and Kristie were a lot of fun to play with. Moreover, I thought Kate very pretty, and developed a crush on her almost immediately. When I completed my writing assignment and signed my name, Vera reviewed it and nodded with satisfaction. I would get a few more spankings from Kate after she became my stepmother, but that first spanking from her holds a special place in my heart.

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. The next thing I knew, Aunt Pam was holding my arms firmly so I couldn’t move, and Doreen was unzipping my jeans. Then I was pulled across Pam’s knee in a daze. Thanks to the church, the Lord above, Vicars and local matriarchs. And of course the mistress of Spank herself, Aphrodite of the Beautiful Bare Acre and Bottom Bare – who else? 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.