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Spanking Stories - Apply WithinMargaret Simpson looked up and down the small road desperately. Rummaging in her handbag, she produced the newspaper cutting which had brought her there. It was just a small lineage ad. "Disciplinary canes, suitable for all children, available from T H Grey, 20 New Road, Tinsley." Well, after a hour-long drag through town, this was New Road, butit just couldn't be right, thought Margaret. This was a quiet residential street, not a shop in sight. She was on the verge of giving up, but after all her effort she decided to walk up the road anyway. On reaching number 20 she found that it had been converted into offices. There was an architect's, an insurance agent, and last of all "T H Grey, Supplies". That was all it said. Margaret pushed the button on the intercom next to the name. "Hello?" A man's voice. A buzz announced the opening door, and Margaret entered the building. Of course, it had to be the highest office up - just her luck. The door in was plain, just a brass plate with the name again. Inside was a counter, behind which stood the owner of the voice. He was quite old - early 60s Margaret thought - but had a kind face. "Mr Grey?" As he finished speaking, a grey-haired lady of about the same age came through from the "back" of the shop. "You'd like to buy a cane? Follow me, please." Mrs Grey went over to the shelves and after scanning them for a moment, brought down one of the green boxes and opened it on the table. Inside was plenty of blue tissue paper, and wrapped in this was a cane. The old woman took it in her hands and offered it to Margaret. She was surprised how insubstantial it was. It was extremely light, barely 3ft long, a thin corn-yellow streak with the traditional crook handle. Margaret was dubious as to its power to punish. "And how much is this one?" "That one's ten pounds," replied the old lady. Margaret was taken aback. She didn't want to cause any permanent damage to her daughter's bottom. A little instructive temporary heat was all that was required. But she was still unconvinced of the implement's capabilities. "But this is only a junior school one," she objected. "Surely she's old enough for something a bit heavier?" Mrs Grey shook her head vigorously. "No, dear. I only ever recommend senior canes for very recalcitrant teenagers. Don't worry, it won't break and I assure you it'll hurt very much indeed. And it's lovely and light - just the thing for a mum to use. However, perhaps you need a little demonstration, do you?" "I beg your pardon?" "Well, I usually suggest to mums that they have a dose themselves before they take the cane home anyway, just so they know what a harsh implement it can be if it's used incorrectly." A rebuke of the harshest kind rose on Margaret's lips, but it froze there. Perhaps it was only fair that she knew what Laura would go through, she reflected. She felt herself blush deeply, and the old lady noticed her embarrassment. "Come on, my dear, don't be shy. We've all had our bottoms smacked, haven't we? You see, there's a knack to caning, and the best way to learn how to do it is to get it. Take off your coat and bend over the back of one of those chairs, there's a good girl." Her voice was so kind and soothing that Margaret, hardly believing herself, obeyed. She felt Mrs Grey lift her skirt over her back, but froze as she felt rough, wrinkled hands on the waistband of her panties. "No! I don't smack Laura on the bare bottom." "Well, dear, I'm going to suggest that you do from now on. It's important when you're caning to keep an eye on where the strokes land. Now don't be silly - it's not as if I haven't seen a bare backside before - raised seven of my own and they all got caned like this." With that, she yanked the plain white pants down to the younger woman's thighs and gave Margaret's right buttock a playful rub. "Did you get this in school?"Margaret nodded her head, and the years seemed to roll away. Suddenly she was her daughter's age again, listening to the big clock tick on the wall of Mrs Evans's study. She remembered the awful feeling in her stomach as her headmistress had produced the cane from a cupboard, the incredible shame as her name was written in the punishment book. "What's your first name, dear?" "Margaret." "Well, Margaret, I'm going to give you six of the best, which is what your little girl will be getting for most offences. I'm going to start just below the cleavage of your bum, and the last one will be on the tops of your thighs. To do this, I step a little closer to you after each stroke. Understand?" "Yes." Without warning, Margaret heard the hiss of the cane being drawn back - the next moment there was a slash of pain across the centre of her buttocks. She yelped, and to her amazement found tears welling up. She blinked, and they trickled hotly down her face. Mrs Grey remained calm. "I usually tell the mum to leave a good five
to ten seconds between each smack - that way the punishment lasts a
bit longer and the child has time to think about the next one." WHACK! WHACK! Margaret whimpered like a newly-whipped puppy at another kiss from the rattan. She no longer doubted the ability of the cane to adequately chastise her daughter. And the waiting, the waiting was WHACK! awful. Meanwhile, the old lady surveyed her handiwork. Three nice red lines. And such an attractive little botty. And the bent-over punishment position was so revealing. She admired the puckered little brown anus, the thick black bush adorning the mother's most private part. Oh well, time for another. WHACK! Margaret began to cry constantly, though softly. She felt the old woman's rough hand caress her sore bottom tenderly. "Never mind, my dear. Two more, then we're done." Or rather, you are, thought Mrs Grey. She brought the cane down again. WHACK! Very low now, just where the two hillocks began to rise. She'll remember that one when she sits down for a while, not to mentionWHACK! A final, salutary stroke right on the tops of the woman's thighs. "Pull your pants up, Margaret, and make yourself decent." The womanobeyed, wincing as the fabric of her knickers rubbed against the ridges on her behind. Mrs Grey offered her a paper tissue to wipe her eyes. "Hurts a lot,
doesn't it?" Laura shuffled uncomfortably as she sat on the edge of her bed in her pyjamas, still dabbing at her eyes with a hankie. The punishment had been swift and deftly executed. No more for her the warmth of mummy's knee and mummy's hand when she was a bad girl. Now there was only the hard back of a chair and the stinging embrace of rattan. And a pain, without and within. She stood up and put her hand down the back of her pyjama trousers. Her fingers traversed her smooth bare bottom and felt three hot, evenly spaced ridges. How had her mum suddenly become such an expert with the cane, she wondered? Spanking Stories These links only include sites offering a range of Spanking stories. My own story site SPANKING STORIES contains additions to the main story pages below. |
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