Part 2 - Kim's Story - The Babysitter

By Adrianne Bloom
bloom10001@hotmail.com

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Kim’s story.

The Baby Sitter

Part 1

As a teenager I used to babysit for the lady next door. Mrs Curtis was quite a young divorcee with a boy who, at that time, was nine years old. Mrs Curtis and I used to get on well because she always made me feel like a grown up, I was fifteen at the time. We would often chat for a while when she came home, mostly about girl things and sometimes she would even let me have a glass of wine with her. My mom and dad did not think much of her though; they thought her irresponsible because she was out almost every evening. I, on the other hand, thought this fine because it meant I got plenty of sitting fees. I would rather be around at her house anyway where I was able to watch the TV programmes I wanted instead of having to sit through the stuff my mom and dad watched. I would be there four or five times a week on average, so at two dollars a visit; I considered myself very lucky.

Her boy Harold and I also got on well despite the difference in our ages; mostly I think because I would just let him get on with his own playing while I did my homework or watched the TV. He was a good kid and generally well behaved. On the particular evening that I want to tell you about though Harold was being a real nuisance. I had told him that I really wanted to watch a TV programme, it was a girly thing about the latest teenage fashion. I made a joke about it being by far the best thing to watch that evening and that, if he was really good, I would let him watch it as well. This became a challenge for him; he was determined not to behave so he would not have to watch it. Most of the time he was quite content playing with his Meccano set, but after a while he started grabbing the remote and switching the channel just to be annoying. At first it was a joke, but then it became irritating.

Eventually the interruptions became so frequent that it completely spoilt my programme. I became so angry that I ordered him to bed. It was only a half hour away from his bedtime anyway so I felt quite justified in my demand. He was enjoying the game of being naughty though, so much so in fact that he kept making excuses. This just made me more determined that he should go. He was arguing, I was insisting; the whole thing became quite heated. I was going to lift him up and carry him off to bed; I do not suppose that it was intentional but he swiped out with a piece of his Meccano and hit me across the face near one of my eyes. I was extremely angry and he instantly became very subdued. He realised that it could have caused me serious damage and was very apologetic. He was a sweet boy really and he just took himself off to bed without further a do.

I was not really injured, but I did have a red line down the side of my face and it hurt like hell. I got some ice from the freezer, wrapped it in a cloth and held it to my face. I was still holding it there when Mrs Curtis came home later.

She asked me what had happened and, without making too much of a deal about it, I told her of the incident and what led up to it. She became very cross.

I know that she loved Harold in her own way but, unlike other mothers that I knew with just the one child, did not molly coddle him and, in fact, was often quite sharp and bossy to him.

“Oh he did, did he?” Mrs Curtis showed her anger. “Well we’ll soon see about that. Come on Kimberly, I want you to see what happens to naughty boys in this house”.

She was furious and stormed off up the stairs to his bedroom with me in tow.

Harold was tucked up in bed, but I am sure he was just pretending to be asleep; she threw back the sheets and dragged him out of it.

He looked so cute standing there in his little Star Trek pyjamas while Mrs Curtis berated him about his behaviour. I felt quite sorry for him; she really gave him a good old tongue wagging. But this was nothing to what was to come.

“So my lad, I am going to give you something that will help you mend your ways. Kimberly is a very kind and gentle girl and you are very lucky that she is prepared to give up so much of her time to look after you most nights. What would you do if she decided not to come here just to be swiped across her face? I wouldn’t blame her, would you? I wouldn’t blame her at all.”

She had hold of his arm with one hand and was poking him aggressively with a stiff finger from the other.

He did not say anything, but just stood there with his head down.

“No, you can’t answer that can you? Well, you know what happens to naughty boys and I am sure that Kimberly wants to know as well. So we’re going to show her.”

“Oh no mom, please not in front of Kimberly”. These were the first words he had said and he looked up at me with his big brown sorrowful eyes. I would have forgiven him anything right then with a look like that.

“Oh yes young man. You are going to get what all naughty boys get. That bottom of yours is going to be well and truly tanned for behaviour like that.”

With that she sat down on the edge of his bed and dragged him across her lap without hesitation.

I had never seen anyone being spanked before and, although I felt that he did not deserve it and that the telling off was enough, I was intrigued to see the effect of a spanking on a naughty boy. Perhaps I felt that, when I became a mother, this was something that I might have to do myself and would thereby learn from the experience.

Once Harold was positioned, Mrs Curtis made sure that he could not struggle by getting his head low down on one side and anchoring him there with her strong left arm. His feet were not touching the ground. His butt looked so cute stuck up like that clad only in thin pyjamas and she emphasised this by tugging on the waistband so that the material pulled into the crack between his two cheeks.

She began by stroking each plump orb with the palm of her hand and I began to think how nice that must feel. She was working her hand around in a polishing movement on each cheek in turn. This was obviously therapeutic, for she lost her initial anger and began talking quite sweetly to him.

“You’re such a naughty boy Harold; I really should not have to do this to you at your age. Here you are again, over my lap once more for a thorough spanking. This is going to be a good one my lad, you know that don’t you? I’m going to show you no mercy, not this time. I’m going to do it hard and fast until this bottom of your’s is pillar box red and I’m not

going to stop until it is scorching hot and you are squirming and begging me to stop. And then I’m going to take your pants down and start all over again”.

The thought of seeing Harold’s bare bottom turning red intrigued me even more.

“Oh no mom, please not that. I won’t do it again I promise”

“No you certainly won’t do it again. Now be quiet and take what’s coming to you.”

Then she started slapping him really hard with a rigid hand. Smack after smack after smack rained down on his soft cheeks, one after the other. They wobbled and bounced as the spanks landed. Harold let out little yelps at times while this was going on. After a while though, ten minutes or so, the cries became more frequent and earnest. He began to struggle and his legs were moving up and down like someone swimming the crawl.

“That’s right; you just show Kimberly how it feels to have your bottom soundly spanked. I’m sure that she loves it watching you get your comeuppance young man. Maybe you’ll now think twice before you go hitting out at people. I’ll soon teach you to show some respect my lad.”

The spanking developed in speed and intensity.

“Let’s show Kimberly how naughty boys squirm when they get their bottoms smacked shall we? I hope that I punish you severely enough to placate Kimberly. I’ll just have to make sure that you, young man, are sorry enough when I’m done.”

Mrs Curtis was really laying into him with her firm hand. She was covering the entire area with hard stinging slaps. Harold was now struggling like a mad thing and crying out loud as the spanks came down; but she was having none of it as she relentlessly smacked his cheeks. I was amazed at her energy for she seemed not to tire at all. On and on it went for what seemed like ages.

Eventually though she stopped to rest her arm. She placed her hand down on each cheek as though testing the temperature.

“Is this bottom hot enough yet I wonder? Let’s just see how red it’s become shall we? Let’s just show Kimberly your sore bottom now. Come on Kimberly, have a good look at this.”

With that she began pulling at the waistband of his pants. She hiked him up a bit further over her lap and slowly pulled them down. Harold was now beyond complaining but did just utter a pathetic “Oh no please don’t do that mom”.

I watched fixated as the pants came down. My heart was thumping with anticipation. I had hardly ever seen a boy’s naked bottom before and certainly not a well spanked one presented before me like this.

The site was amazing; both globes were a bright scarlet red colour and looked really sore.

“So Kimberly, what do you think of this nice red bottom then?”

“It looks very sore Mrs Curtis” I stammered, hardly able to speak.

“Yes, we’re someway there; but I think we’ve a long way to go yet.”

I was dumbfounded. Here was this poor little chap, with his blazing bottom on view following a staggeringly blistering spanking over his mother’s knee, looking pathetically sorry for himself; and his mother was intent on giving him some more. How much further would she go I wondered?

“Now tell me Kimberly, do you think these cheeks are hot enough yet? Come and feel and tell me what you think. Come here, give me your hand and put it just here to test it for yourself.”

She took my hand and placed it down onto one of his round cheeks. It felt lovely. The spanking had made the flesh swollen so the skin was tight and smooth. It felt very warm and I could not help myself stroking it as Mrs Curtis had done earlier. I cupped my hand slightly and tenderly moved my palm around each rosy globe in a polishing movement. I loved the roundness, plumpness and softness of his skin as my palm caressed each orb and I could feel myself getting turned on at the feeling of it. I wanted to keep doing this for as long as I could.

“Now then young man, are you sorry for what you did?”

“I’m sorry mommy”, was the plaintive response.

“It’s no good saying sorry to me; Kimberly is the one you injured.”

“I’m sorry Kimberly.”

Then Mrs Curtis took a pinch of the short hair behind his right ear and pulled his head around to face me.

“I want you to face Kimberly and tell her how sorry you are.”

“I’m so sorry Kimberly.”

I could have planted a great big sloppy kiss on his dear little face right then, he looked so darling with those big sorrowful brown eyes as he looked at me. I was still stroking his lovely bottom and a feeling of warm sexiness overwhelmed me.

“So are you ready for your proper punishment now Harold?

“Oh mommy, haven’t I had enough already?”

“No you have not; we’ve only just started young man. Now face Kimberly,” she pulled his hair around again, “and ask her nicely to be punished properly now.”

He faced me again and pleaded with those big tearful eyes while I still stroked his bottom.

“Please Kimberly, can I be punished properly now?”

I could have died and gone to heaven. I did not know if I was supposed to answer this, but Mrs Curtis did not give me a chance.

“Kimberley please fetch the hairbrush; I want you to see what effect some hard flat wood has on a naughty bottom. You’ll find it in the next room on my dressing table. It’s the one with the stout oval back.”

I hurried to her bedroom and noticed the brush right away. It was a Maison Pearson, I had one myself, but had never thought of it as a spanking implement although it was obvious that it was about to be used as one now. I was fascinated by it and could not help imagining it being slapped down on a bare bottom. I picked it up and held it as though I was about to spank Harold. I felt the hard flat back with the palm of my other hand; the same palm that still held the memory of his smooth swollen cheeks. I wondered what it would feel like being brought down hard and started to feel really horny again. I couldn’t help touching myself between my legs and, as I did, I tapped the back of the brush against my face to give just a slight sensation of what it might feel like to be spanked with it. I tried to imagine the hot sting it would cause being brought down hard on an already well punished bottom.

I turned my back towards the dressing table mirror and looked over my shoulder at my butt. I was wearing a pair of brief white shorts and, with my hand still down the front fingering my clitty, was able to imagine quite vividly what my butt might look like all red and swollen like Harold’s; especially when I brought the hairbrush into view as well and began tapping the side of my bottom with it. I wished I could have just lowered my shorts right then and given myself a hard whack against my naked flesh.

“Are you alright in there dear, can’t you find it?”

I must have been ages for I was brought out of my fantasy by Mrs Curtis calling.

“Yes, just coming Mrs Curtis” I chuckled to myself at the double entendre, “I think this is the one you mean” and rushed back to join her still tingling between my legs.

She was still sitting on the bed with Harold laid across her lap. I wondered how he must have felt all that time anticipating what was to come. He must have been familiar with the sting of a hair brush and to have been laying there so vulnerably with his bare bottom in the air anticipating it must have been awful I thought.

“You were a long time; did you fall asleep in there Kimberly?” Mrs Curtis asked with, what I thought was, a knowing look and I suddenly felt guilty.

“Now then Harold, let’s get down to business and show Kimberly what a proper spanking is all about shall we?”

With that she hiked him further over her lap once more bringing his head low down on one side, hooked her right leg over both of his so that he could not struggle, reached out to me for the hairbrush and then rolled up the right sleeve of her cardigan and prepared to spank the living daylights out of Harold.

The brush came down with an almighty crack; the sound of it rang around the room. I could almost feel the smart of it just from the noise it made. Harold let out a howl and burst into tears immediately.

Then the other cheek was smacked just as hard. This continued crack after crack on each alternate cheek. Harold was going frantic drumming his fists on the floor and begging for it to stop. It made not the slightest difference to his mother though who just spanked away regardless and as hard and as fast as she could.

She spread the spanks out evenly over both his cheeks, at the sides, the top and even some down his thighs, until the entire area was turning purple. She had not let up, either in speed or intensity, for what must have been twelve to fifteen minutes. Harold was blubbering, shrieking and pleading with his mother the whole time.

I was mesmerised as this went on, watching the skin change colour and watching his desperate attempts to escape the onslaught. I was a mess of emotions; I felt guilty for the joy I got from watching him squirm but, at the same time felt really sorry for him. Also it turned my on in a peculiar way; not watching Harold suffer, but imagining myself in his situation, totally abandoned and giving my bare bottom up to whatever treatment it deserved.

Eventually though it stopped and Mrs Curtis began to stroke his bottom again; it was even more swollen than before and the colour was livid. I do not know what came over me, it just looked so lovely that I wanted to touch it myself and blurted out, “Oh can I test it as well please Mrs Curtis?”

“Of course my dear, this is for your benefit, so it is only right that you should decide when this monkey has had enough.”

So I knelt down in front of them, lifted Harold’s chin with my left hand so that I could see his face and, with my right hand, began stroking his poor sore bottom. I was surprised at the way I was feeling for I was getting so excited. His face was a picture of suffering; his eyes were full of tears and he was sobbing deeply. I had so much sympathy just then for this poor little boy and felt so sorry for him. This emotion together with the tactile information I was receiving through the palm of my right hand where I could feel the hotness from his swollen bottom cheeks made me so horny. I kissed his little wet nose while I greedily stroked both his globes all over.

I had to gain some composure.

“I think he is sorry enough now Mrs Curtis, don’t you?”

“Well, I’m not so sure. I think it would be better if, just to drive the lesson home, he went across your lap for a few more.”

I could not believe this; Mrs Curtis was inviting me to continue spanking Harold. I had really wanted this, but was too embarrassed to ask. After what I had just seen of the relationship that occurred between the spanker and the spankee and the electric charge that united them, I was eager to be part of it and jumped up ready for action but hoping not to show too much enthusiasm.

Mrs Curtis told Harold to stand up but also warned him that on no account must he touch his bottom and that he should place his hands on his head. He was quite familiar with this routine and did so without hesitation or question.

He had kicked off his pyjama pants in the previous struggles and now stood there, totally compliant but hopping from one foot to the other with his head bowed; he was naked from the waist down, sobbing deeply. I noticed that his penis was stiff and stuck out in front. This surprised me as I was certain that he was too young to become sexually aroused but supposed that this must happened to all boys of that age that have just been through what he had.

So I exchanged places with Mrs Curtis sitting on the edge of the bed and took the offered hairbrush from her. I was a bit nervous but wanted to appear grown up and that I knew what I was doing, so pretended to be totally in charge just like she had been.

I felt a bit self conscious in my brief shorts but, with the hairbrush in my right hand, I pointed to my bare thighs and said to Harold, “Come on you naughty boy, get across my knee for some more good hard spanks.”

Mrs Curtis smiled at my mock authority; Harold just whimpered a bit and then put himself down over my lap. It felt lovely to have his warm body laid across me like that. I had this tremendous feeling of power and to enhance it I held him fast with my left arm. I stroked his bottom a bit more; it felt even nicer now that he was under my control. He was very compliant and I could feel his penis, still stiff, sandwiched between my leg and his stomach. It felt a bit rude like that so I separated my knees and let it rest between my two thighs, and then brought them together again.

Then I started spanking him. I did not hit him anywhere near as hard as his mother had at first; I was still a novice at this and needed to find the technique. But it was enough to get him howling again.

I really enjoyed watching his cheeks spread out when I brought the hairbrush down and then spring back again. I discovered that there was a way to spank that made a brighter noise and caused him to wriggle even more; I supposed that it stung even more like that and so kept doing it that way. I liked it best when I spanked the sides of his cheeks and especially when I gave him four or five to the same spot at the sides. Also, whenever I did that, it caused him to sway slightly one way or the other and that made his penis roll between my thighs. Somehow that really excited me.

I began spanking him harder and faster and became oblivious to his cries and was in danger of going too far. I think Mrs Curtis must have realised this as she was soon calling me to a close.

“Alright now Kimberly, I think that will do. I’m quite sure that Harold will now be more careful not to harm you again.”

I stopped, my arm ached and I was quite worn out.

“Come on then Harold, up you get.”

Harold stood up; he was shaking and quite unsteady on his feet. His mother hugged him and then wrapped him in the quilt from off the bed and cuddled him some more. She was now very loving and warm to him, talking softly and reassuring him that it was all over and that everything would be alright. She was stroking his back and kissing his face.

I felt so sorry and ashamed of allowing myself to get out of control, especially as at first I did not want any trouble for him at all.

Mrs Curtis asked me to forgive him, I did whole heartedly and then she tucked him back into bed laying on his tummy.

“Come on Kimberly, he’ll cry himself to sleep now and, apart from a few bruises, will be as right as rain in the morning. Shall we go downstairs again; I think we need a glass of wine after all that. Will you join me?”

Part 2

I had been drinking wine with Mrs Curtis for much longer than I should have. It was a school night and getting quite late. Usually I would have been home by eleven-o-clock on my sitting nights but, one glass had led to another, our conversation had been lively and stimulating, and now it was getting on for midnight. But I was feeling quite merry and I did not want to spoil the close relationship that was developing between me and Mrs Curtis. Memories of the earlier events with Harold were still running through my mind and no doubt through hers as well for, towards the end of the evening, she asked me if I had ever received a spanking either at school or from my parents. I had to admit that I had not, that my mom and dad were quite liberal in their attitudes towards discipline and that my school would rather put the onus on the pupil to behave properly; I was already a prefect and that gave me responsibilities.

“Well that’s a shame you know Kimberly, for corporal punishment, when administered properly, can be very therapeutic for a girl of your age. This is a time when you really need some proper guidance and discipline to help you through those more difficult moral decisions that face you at these times.”

Her words made perfect sense to me as there had definitely been times when I had felt very much in need of some guidance from the adults in my life about things that had troubled me.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this dear, but your parents have been neglectful, despite their liberal thinking, as sometimes a girl just needs to have certain lessons taught to her in a painful and humiliating way. Often a good old fashioned over the knee bare bottom spanking is all it needs.”

When I heard those last words I started to get that warm sexy feeling that I had experienced earlier when I had mentally changed places with Harold.

“Don’t take this the wrong way or be alarmed my dear, I have the most proper respect for you; but if ever you felt the urge to experience what Harold has just experienced, I would be quite willing to oblige. You know that don’t you?”

This she said while placing her hand on my thigh. I did not know what to say, but the thought of being across Mrs Curtis’ lap with my knickers down caused that sexy feeling to surge through my entire body in a rush and I felt myself blushing.

“Just think about it Kimberly. I promise that I would not think any less of you. On the contrary, you would have my utmost admiration for your courage in embarking on an experience that, I assure you, would be one of the most memorable and rewarding of your young life.”

Keen as I might have been to embark on a rewarding experience, my immediate thought was, no way, but under the surface I was positively intrigued. I had to leave before I committed to something I would regret later.

“My goodness, is that the time? Mrs Curtis, I really must be getting home it’s nearly midnight. Thank you ever so much for the wine and I really enjoyed our chat, but I must go now. Give my love to Harold; I do hope that he will be alright in the morning.”

“Oh yes dear, he’s strong, there will be no damage I assure you. Good night Kimberly, and do give some thought to what I have just said.”

If it was not for the wine I think I would not have slept at all that night I was so wired and so horny. In my mind I kept going through all the images of that evening. I kept seeing little Harold’s scorched red bottom and hearing the smack of the hairbrush as it came down still ringing in my ears. I could see his sorrowful little face and kept wondering what it must have felt like to be spanked by Mrs Curtis like that. Then I recalled her words and how, if I wanted it, I might be able to get the same sort of treatment and be the one over her knee having my bare bottom soundly paddled.

The whole experience had made me really wet between my legs, so I just had to finger myself and caress my clitty a bit. It was lovely and I could not stop until I had reached an orgasm, which I did very quickly I was so turned on. So then I just kept stroking myself more and more, visualising every scene as I did; I managed to orgasm five times that night before I fell asleep. I just could not get enough, the images were just so vivid in my mind.

I did not have any more baby sitting duties that week. In a way I was glad that I did not have to face Mrs Curtis again for a while. I did see Harold though at the candy store two days later. He was fine although perhaps a little more reticent towards me than normal. He was with a friend so I made sure not to embarrass him by making any reference to the other evening, but he did acknowledged me openly enough and was perfectly polite.

That weekend, on Saturday afternoon, I was on my own at home. My folks were away for the weekend, my tennis match had been cancelled and I was at a bit of a loose end. I started to think about the evening of Harold’s spanking and how I had become turned on when I had gone to fetch Mrs Curtis’s hairbrush. I wondered if I could revive that same sensation.

So I picked up my own Maison Pearson to see if, just by handling it, I could become aroused again. Apart from being a different colour, it was the exact same model. I turned it over to admire and stroke the flat back. I immediately started to feel excited and was amazed that an inanimate object could have such an effect on me. Just like I had the other night, I patted it against the side of my face and felt its hardness against my smooth delicate skin. This reminded me of Harold’s swollen bottom cheeks again and I remembered how soft they had felt when I had caressed them. I was also intrigued as to what it would feel like being spanked with it.

So I slapped the palm of my other hand with the back of the brush. It stung quite a bit so I kept doing it harder and harder until I could take it no more. It stung like crazy but in a way that I quite enjoyed. I wanted to rub the sting away but, once I had, I wanted to slap it down again. So I did it some more but just kept going when the point had been reached when I wanted to stop. I was able to give myself quite a few more. The next time I decided to do it as hard as I could and to see how many I could take. One was the answer to that little experiment as it hurt like hell and I almost yelped and needed to rub it vigorously against the rough carpet to ease the smarting. I looked at my hand, it was getting quite red. I wondered what my butt would look like when it got red from a spanking. There was only one thing for it; I had to try this on my own bottom; but only until it became red.

Once I had decided, I could not get my jeans off fast enough and was stumbling around with one leg half out. Then I was standing there in just a thin pair of cream coloured panties. I held the brush in my right hand and began patting my right buttock with it using a twist of the wrist. Although I could tell what it might be like, I got the feeling that I was just not doing it hard enough. So the next time I bent over at the waist and bent my knees slightly so that my butt was sticking out; then I held the brush as though serving a backhand in tennis and brought it down as hard as I could.

This was much better. It made that lovely noise again, a ringing crack that spread my cheek and smarted nicely. I did it again just as hard. This time it smarted a bit more and already I wanted some more. I’m going to give myself four hard ones like this, I thought, and proceeded to do just that. At the third one I nearly stopped but forced myself to take another.

By then, my right cheek was stinging and quite warm.

As a tennis player I am quite ambidextrous, so I found that I could perform the same technique with my left hand on my left buttock. I was keen to keep everything even, so did exactly the same on that side. Both butt cheeks needed a real good rubbing after that.

I was really enjoying the feeling of having my bottom warm and tingling. I wonder if it is red yet, I thought; but then decided that I would take a few more before I looked.

This time I’m going to take six to each cheek, six of the best I decided and that thought alone made me feel naughty.

I began with the right globe: one, two, and three ouch, four ow, five oh, ow, and SIX yow, ow, ow. Then, once I had gained the courage, the other side: one, two, three, and four ow, five ouch, and SIX, phew.

My cheeks were really tingling by then and I put the brush down and gave them both a vigorous rubbing. Oh that felt good; I could feel myself getting seriously turned on.

Shall I see how red I am yet or take ten on each side before I do? I opted for the ten.

I nearly did not make it. I had to take a breath after six and steel some resolve, then again after eight and the last two were given quickly one after the other with hardly a gap between. I was determined to do better on the other side, so shut my eyes and just went for it without stopping. Gosh how my butt was stinging after that.

I just had to see how red my bottom had become but, even though I was desperate to pull my knickers down at once and gaze at my coloured cheeks, I did not want to spoil the reveal by being too hasty. I knelt on my bed to be on the same level with the dressing table mirror and turned my back to be three quarters on so that I could see both globes. Then, while looking over my shoulder and bending forward slightly, with my thumbs in the waistband of my panties, I slowly pulled them down. Gosh! I had not expected my cheeks to be so red. I thought that they might be quite pink by then, but scarlet patches were clearly visible where the brush had landed. They looked wonderful and I could not take my eyes from them, I felt so proud.

I got closer to the mirror, turning one way then the other, and examined them properly in detail. Then I found a hand mirror and used that to see my reflection in the bigger mirror. That way I was able to stand there and gaze at both my bare buttocks at the same time looking all red and rosy.

The darkest red was on the crowns of each cheek and beyond that were other shades of pink. I decided that the whole should be the same colour before I stopped but, the truth was, I really just wanted to give myself some more whacks on the bare.

So to be sure I was distributing the spanks evenly, I adopted the looking over the shoulder technique for this experiment and knelt on the bed with my butt stuck out and prepared myself. How many shall it be, ten again? No, no limits I decided, after all if I was being spanked by Mrs Curtis she would just go on and on. So, I’m just going to spank the paler bits to fill them with colour and keep on going.

I do not know from where I found the resolve but, somehow, after the initial first slap on bare skin that almost made me change my mind, I managed to rain smack after smack onto my naked cheek. I loved it and became lost in the intoxication of that stimulation. My whole buttock was smarting and stinging with each slap. I was uttering little gasps when I hit a particularly tender bit and that just made me want to hit that bit again harder. The room resounded with the noise of flat wood on naked skin. I was breathing hard and becoming tremendously excited; oh how I wanted to finger myself.

Time for the other cheek I thought. I hurriedly switched positions to the other side and began again with the left hand.

This time I wanted to enjoy the initial feeling of hairbrush on bare skin, so the first few spanks I delivered hard and I paused between each one while I felt the sting build. Then I started to increase the pace ignoring as I did every sinew of my body telling me to stop and whipped my self into a frenzy of hard fast spanking once more. I became delirious with the pleasure of the pain. Am I nuts, I thought?

I needed to vigorously rub my cheeks, but remembered Mrs Curtis forbidding Harold to rub his, so, having found the will power to get that far, decided that I should endure the pain without allowing myself any relief and stood there with my back to the mirror contemplating the sensation. My poor sore bottom throbbed with pain that came in waves all up my legs and around my abdomen.

I’ll just stroke myself between my legs a little, I thought, to help me to endure this. I was very wet down there and it was wonderful when I separated my lips and began rolling my fingers around my clitoris. The overpowering pain subsided quite quickly leaving me with very warm bottom cheeks. Perhaps I needed a few more spanks?

One of the most stimulating sensations that I was experiencing was the feeling of vulnerability brought about by my nudity from the waist down. It made me feel really naughty, but at the same time quite humiliated. Being so naughty, in that case, it was quite justified that I should be thoroughly spanked I reasoned. So I threw off my panties completely and decided then that I should be totally naked and took everything else off as well.

I stood there, up straight; with my back to the mirror using two mirrors to admirer my nude body with a rosy butt. It looked lovely and red against the paleness of the rest of me and somewhat bigger and fuller than normal below my slim waist and it overhung my long thighs more. It must be swollen, so I felt it to find out. The skin was very warm, tight and smooth; I recalled how Harold’s had felt when I had stroked his. I also remembered how the hairbrush had bounced off his cheeks in that state and supposed that the same would happen to mine. It must be time for some more I thought.

I stroked myself intimately while I prepared myself and decided where to place the next spanks. The sides of my cheeks were marginally lighter I decided; and the underside where my thighs join. So these are the areas where I would concentrate the next series.

I stuck my bottom out, tapped the hairbrush to take aim, decided I would apply hard fast ones and then resumed.

The smacks really stung home on the sides. I found that I was able to take five or six fast ones to that same spot before I had to move to another. So the sequence became first to the side: ow, ow, ow, ouch, ouch, OUCH; then underneath: ow, ow, ooh, ooh, ouch, ouch; quick change of hands and position, left side: ow, ow, ow, ouch, ouch, OUCH; underneath; yow, ow, ooh, ooh, ouch, OUCH; repeat. This I managed to keep up for quite a while.

I decided to finger myself while I did it. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, oh please more, yes, ouch. I must keep going even though I cannot stand it. Oh, oh, youch, oh please, yes more, ow, ow, ow; I was becoming delirious. Yes more, oh please; ouch, ouch, ouch; I was coming, yes, ow, ouch, ooh harder, please oh please, more, much harder, oh yes, yes, yes, ouch, much, much harder ouch: yes, oh yes, YES, YES, YES.

I flung myself down onto the bed. I was shaking with a mixture of utter pain and absolute pleasure. I had never had an orgasm like that before, it was fantastic.

After I recovered, I stood up to look at my butt. Oh my God! It was turning blue and felt like it was twice the normal size. What had I done? I am nuts I decided, but oh boy that was good.

I knew that I could not make this a habit no matter how much I might have wanted it. My butt was marked and bruised in places for quite a few days after and I had to be careful that none of my school chums saw me in the shower after PE. When I was at home in bed, try as I might, I could not achieve as satisfying an orgasm any where close to the one I had after my spanking. Also I could not get from my mind the images from the evening with Mrs Curtis and Harold, so I was in a state of constant sexual arousal. I wanted to go through the whole thing again just to re-live that fantastic orgasm.

The pattern of babysitting resumed at four or five times each week. Harold was just as sweet towards me, although just a little bit more wary, Mrs Curtis never mentioned her offer again and I was still too embarrassed to bring it up. Sometimes, while sitting, I would wish that Harold would be naughty again and I would have an excuse to inform Mrs Curtis and get him into trouble, but he was too well behaved and I am not the sort of person to make things up or to tell tales. Besides, I liked him too much for that.

Six weeks had passed since I had indulged myself with the hairbrush and I was getting desperate for a mind-blowing orgasm again. During one evening around at Mrs Curtis’ house she happened to drop into the conversation that her office was being decorated and that she would be working from home for a few days that next week. I realised that, if she was at home during the day when no one else was around, this might present the perfect opportunity for me to discover what one of her spankings was like. I had thought about it quite a lot and was beginning to find the idea quite fascinating. I found it so difficult to ask her directly however, so I decided to write her a letter.

So, that Saturday I spent some time in my room composing the right letter to convey what I wanted, without her getting the wrong idea but that would be sure to get me over her knee for a very hot bottom warming.

This is what I came up with:

Dear Mrs Curtis

Ever since that evening when you had to punish Harold for his bad behaviour,

I have been having some very troublesome thoughts.

These are not the sort of thoughts that an innocent girl should be having and

have led me to behave towards myself in an improper, impure and indulgent way.

I hope that you might be able to help me to deal with this in the manner that you

suggested when we talked the other evening, for I feel a need to be shown the

error of my ways.

I wonder if you would be so inclined to deal with a naughty girl like me in the

sternest and severest way.

I would be able to visit your house this Wednesday morning if at all possible.

Yours obediently, Kimberly

After many attempts, I felt that this explained what I wanted and was truthful; it had the correct tenor of politeness and subservience and was not overtly soppy. I hoped that, once I dropped this into her mailbox, it would be inevitable that I would get what I desired and there would be no turning back. I did not want to have second thoughts so I hurried around to her house, hoping that no one saw me, and popped it into her mailbox. Immediately a surge of adrenalin filled my body.

I was in a state of acute apprehension from that moment on. My mind was a turmoil of thoughts and emotions. I kept wondering what it would be like. Would she be as hard on me as she had been on Harold? Would it hurt so much that I would not be able to take it? Would I cry and beg her to stop? The fact was that I wanted all these things, but I was terrified at the same time. But, maybe she would not be willing to do this. Perhaps, the next time I saw her she would say that it had been the alcohol talking and that I was a silly girl to think that she had meant it. What would I do then? I would feel so stupid and disappointed.

On Monday morning a letter arrived for me. It was handwritten and not stamped. I knew it was from Mrs Curtis. I did not want to open it in front of my mom and dad in case I blushed, so I hid it in with my school books and hurried off to school. All morning I wanted to open it. I felt it blazing a hole in my school bag. Every time I opened my bag to get another book, there it was at the top demanding my attention. Was it going to be a rejection, or was it going to satisfy my desires?

At lunch break I went into the school library where I would not be disturbed and where no one would see me and opened the letter. It was better than I had hoped. At first I read it through quite quickly, then again slowly analysing it and thinking about every word. It turned me on fantastically and it was a lovely feeling sitting there, feeling tremendously apprehensive about what was going to happen and, at the same time, tingling between my legs.

This is what it said:

My dear Kimberly

Thank you for your letter. I have a complete understanding of your feelings and know

exactly what you need.

Of course I would be able to oblige you with your wishes on Wednesday

morning. You do understand though I hope, that this will not be easy for

you. If you are to do this, you will do it under my terms and, while you are

here, you will be at my command, totally. I will require your absolute

obedience the whole time.

That said, you have the chance to back out now. Simply do not turn up if

you have second thoughts. I will not think any less of you and these

circumstances will never be mentioned again.

If you do turn up however, I will take that as a sign of your acquiescence.

You will be clean and freshly bathed. Also please be sure to have used the

toilet beforehand.

You will be wearing your school uniform, and I insist on this, no panty hose,

garter belts, or anything that would hamper the swift removal of your panties.

I would expect you here at 10:00 o-clock precisely.

I intend to deal with you severely, so you must prepare yourself to leave

here with a very, very sore bottom indeed.

Regards, Ann Curtis

There it was; the letter explained everything and was exactly what I wanted. I knew that I would have to submit and yet I still had the chance to back out if I was inclined to, but I knew that would not happen. I also knew that I was going to get it on the bare and I particularly liked the idea of my panties being removed “swiftly” without the hampering of any panty hose or garter belts. The idea that I should use the bathroom beforehand, presumably so that I did not wet myself, gave me an inclination of how hard it was going to be. But the sign-off line is what did it for me; the image of me leaving there with a “very, very sore bottom indeed” was absolutely thrilling. I could not stop reading it and even surreptitiously put my finger up the leg of my knickers for a bit of stimulation while I sat in the library imagining the events for that forthcoming Wednesday.

So after two days of apprehension, anxiety and excitement, Wednesday morning arrived. I had told the school that I had a hospital appointment, physiotherapy for tennis-elbow. I hated to lie but I would just have to make sure I was punished for it later, wouldn’t I? I also had to lie to my parents as well, that classes were starting a little later that morning. As usual my folks both left for work at their normal times and that left me alone to get ready privately, and I did that with impeccable detail preparing to meet Mrs Curtis.

At five to ten, there I was, standing on my neighbour’s doorstep with an acute feeling of butterflies in my stomach, fighting the impulse to turn back and trying to find the courage to ring her bell.

I had paid particular attention to my school uniform but I still felt the need to give myself a final once over. My black patent court shoes were like mirrors, my white socks were dirt free and came to just below my knee, the pleats of my bottle-green skirt were perfectly straight and its length was the regulation two inches above my knees. I had put on my best black blazer, my tie was straight and my white blouse was freshly clean and ironed.

Gosh, the last time that I had made this much effort was when I had gone up to receive my tennis champ cup.

My underwear had received particular attention. Remembering that my knickers would be removed swiftly, I had talcum powdered my bottom especially. Not wanting any embarrassing stains visible on my white cotton panties, I had bought a new pair and had those on right then. I had not been too sure what to do about my bra, so had decided not to wear one; I hardly needed one really but usually I wore it just to be grown up.

My own self-inspection passed muster I thought, I cannot put this off any longer.

So with deep trepidation I rang the door bell.

“Just a minute” I heard Mrs Curtis shout from the other side of the door. I waited for what seemed like ages and felt so stupid and conspicuous standing there. I checked the time; it was two minutes to ten. Was she doing this on purpose I wondered, then realised that she must have been for, at ten-o-clock on the dot, she opened the door to me.

“Kimberly, good morning, do come in my dear.”

I stepped into her house; it was now too late to turn back. She closed the door behind me.

“So, you’re nicely presented I see and punctual. That is a good start Kimberly and I respect that. Now please follow me into the lounge.”

This was the same room that I usually sat with Harold in, except that, in my heightened sense of awareness caused by the adrenaline from my apprehension, it looked different; more spacious, lighter somehow. I noticed that the piano stool had been pulled away from its usual place underneath the piano and was in the centre of the room.

Mrs Curtis made straight for it and sat down.

“Come here Kimberly and stand directly in front facing me.” I obeyed.

“Before we begin there are some ground rules that I want to explain:

“You are here by your own choice, but having arrived you are now under my total command. You will not speak unless I ask you to, and then you will address me as Mam. Every order that I give you will be obeyed without question and without hesitation. I abhor unnecessary fidgeting and displays of weakness. While you are here you will conduct yourself with decorum and in a manner befitting a young lady. Do I make myself clear? I said do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Mam”, I just about managed to utter.

“And you have no objection to that?”

“No Mam.”

“Good, then we can begin. Now please remove your blazer and place it neatly over the back of that chair.”

I did as I was told and resumed my spot standing in front of her.

“Don’t slouch girl, stand up straight, arms by your side and keep that chin up.” This was said in a voice much louder than before. She was building up to take control. I was quite happy to comply and stood there like a soldier at attention on parade; except that now I wished that I had worn a bra. With all the apprehension of what lay ahead and now the yielding to her command, I was getting excited and could feel my nipples enlarging.

Then I was lectured. I was lectured mercilessly on my behaviour, the kind of thoughts I should and should not be having at my age, about the correct use and abuse of my body. I felt so embarrassed and could feel the colour coming to my cheeks as she spoke; she seemed to be able to find my most hidden secrets. At one point I was so embarrassed by what she had said that I could feel myself smirking defensively and found it difficult to remain straight faced.

“Is that a smirk I see on your face? Do you find this funny girl? Well, do you?”

“No Mam” I stammered.

“I assure you that this is far from funny. This is a very serious business, as you will soon find out my girl. Now turn around and lift your skirt at the back.”

I was apprehensive but remembered what she said about obeying without hesitation and turned around lifting my skirt.

I could feel her examining my bottom. She was patting it over my panties and squeezing the muscle. I assumed that she was testing the softness of my flesh to determine how hard she should be; but the intimate touch from an older woman made me more aware of why I was there and I began to feel even more excited.

“Good, now lower your skirt and face me again”.

My nipples were now protruding through the fabric of my blouse and I hoped that she would not notice.

“Well Kimberly, you are a fit and well built young lady. I see no reason why you should not be punished at maximom severity. Can you think of any reason why you should not be thoroughly spanked?”

I was beginning to realise what I had let myself into and have second thoughts. What could I say?

“Only that it is my first time Mrs Curtis”.

“How did I say that I should be addressed? Did I instruct you to call me Mrs Curtis?”

“No Mam. I’m sorry Mam”

“Well, first time or not, there is a first time for everything; so you will be punished just as I see fit. Come here miss and stand to my right.”

This was it, I thought, I’m as ready as I ever will and moved to stand on the right hand side of her lap.

“Get across my knee to receive your punishment, you naughty girl.”

I reached forward placing my abdomen down onto her thighs and immediately felt a mixture of emotions. I enjoyed the feeling of subservience offering my bottom up to her, but also felt apprehensive of what was to come. She moved her legs, bringing the right one up and shifting my head down further to the floor. My hands were resting on the carpet. Then she pressed her left hand strongly against my shoulders; it was firm and allowed me no movement. I could feel my skirt being lifted and folded up over my back. My bottom and legs felt cooler where the skirt had been. Then she was stroking my cheeks as she had to Harold with a polishing movement of her cupped hand.

I was enjoying the sensation of having my bottom stroked like that when, suddenly and unexpectedly, there was a crack and a splash of heat to my right cheek; then the same to the left, and again to the right and then to the left. It was happening. My spanking had started much quicker and harder than I was prepared for; I had to ready myself for what was to come.

My butt was stinging with each slap and the heat in my cheeks was just building and building. It went on and on all the while getting hotter and hotter. Soon I was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable and wondered how much hotter my bottom could get. Once she had got into the swing of it, Mrs Curtis developed a rhythm that had no letup and she began to scold me at the same time.

“This is what happens to naughty girls that abuse themselves and have impure thoughts; they get their bottoms soundly spanked. And you have been a particularly naughty young lady, so your bottom is going to be particularly red and hot by the time I have finished with you. I intend to keep this up for as long as I see fit and when, and only when, your bottom is blazing and red all over and you are begging me to stop, I’m going to take your knickers down and start all over again; but much harder and I’m going to use the hairbrush.”

I was beginning to get quite desperate and was uttering little yelps of pain as the spanks landed. My head was low, close to the carpet, and my bottom was high and roasting as the smacks rained down continuously over the entire area of my poor cheeks. It was not long before I wanted the whole thing to stop. The pain in my butt was agonising and I felt I could take no more.

“Oh please Mrs Curtis, I’ve had enough thank you, would you please stop it now?”

“Oh really! You would like it to stop now would you. Well that option is not available young lady. You have come here to be punished and punished you will be. I did not ask you to speak and I do believe I heard you call me Mrs Curtis again. What did I say about how I should be addressed? That is the second time despite my warning. Remember the ground rules Kimberly my dear. For that, I think we’ll have to take these knickers down.”

Oh no, she was going to bare my bottom.

With that she put her fingers under the waistband of my panties and they were down to my knees in a single movement.

I quickly brought my legs together less she should see my vagina. Although I had foreknowledge that this would happen, now that I was vulnerable and defenceless over her knee, my exposure felt more acute and I just could not let Mrs Curtis see me intimately like that.

The spanking resumed with an intensity that caught me by surprise. It was harder and faster and now on my bare skin.

Oh I was becoming desperate for it to stop. I could not believe my bottom could get so hot; it was like sitting on a stove.

I began to bang my hands flat against the floor and cry out loud.

“Oh please, please no more. I’ve had enough now. Stop it please.”

This was to no avail however as the spanking continued remorselessly. Mrs Curtis just kept on walloping my poor sore bare bottom over and over, again and again, taking no notice of my pleas of anguish. Much as I wanted to, I could no longer hold my legs tightly closed and they began to flay around in a desperate effort to absorb the sting of the slaps. Soon, more in desperation than in pain although the pain was excruciating, I began to cry. I tried not to and attempted to swallow the tears; but they soon filled my eyes and then I was sobbing great gulps and bawling like a baby.

“I think we are getting somewhere now at last Kimberly dear. This is how I would expect a young lady to react while being spanked.”

This seemed to spur Mrs Curtis on even more, for now she was spanking me even faster and harder than before.

“Another five more minutes like this and then we can move onto the next stage.”

I was bawling, hammering my fists, trying to reach back to make it stop but was unable to I was held so fast, and the spanking just went on and on. My legs were working away like a grasshopper’s.

Then it stopped. I was gasping and felt like a limp rag as I lay with my head down over Mrs Curtis’ lap.

“Right then young lady, I’m going to let you up now, but on no account must you touch your bottom, do you hear?”

This felt so unfair as all I wanted to do above anything else was to give my poor sore bottom a good old rubbing. As I got to my feet I could not help bringing my hands back to nurse my blazing cheeks.

Without any hesitation I was pushed back down again over her lap for some more punishment.

“What did I say? Do you think I give you orders just to be ignored girl?”

I was being spanked again, just as hard and just when I thought it was over.

“Orders are to be obeyed, without question and without hesitation. I am in no hurry; I can go on spanking you for as long as I like you know, until I believe that you have learnt your lesson. And I will. So just you keep this up young lady and you can spend all morning and afternoon over my knee having your bare bottom soundly spanked like this.”

I was back in a hell of stinging slaps as my cheeks were dealt with once more. My face was screwed up in pain, my fists were hammering the carpet, my legs were kicking, tears were pouring from my eyes and I was imploring for an end to it. This seemed to go on for ages and I became totally lost in my anguish. Eventually though, and thankfully, it stopped.

“Up you get Kimberly, and remember what I said about not touching your bottom.”

I jumped up off her lap and stood there shaking, with my hands by my sides, desperate to rub my sore cheeks but not daring to do so.

“Let’s have that skirt off now if you please Kimberly and you might as well remove your knickers completely”

I did as I was told without hesitation, fumbling with the zip of my skirt in my hurry. I let it drop to the floor and gathered it up with my knickers and placed it over my blazer on the chair. What was to be next I wondered? I was too traumatised to worry about my nudity but, nevertheless, felt extremely vulnerable standing there naked from the waist, hopping from foot to foot, with my bottom throbbing with pain.

“A bit of corner time for you now my girl, to help you contemplate the error of your ways. Over there in the corner by the window with you.”

I found it difficult to walk my bottom was so sore, so I wobbled over to where she had indicated to a corner where the picture window met the adjacent wall.

“Now stand there with your hands on your head. Take a step back if you please and place your elbows on the wall so that your bottom sticks out. That’s better; you look really cute with that bright red bottom on view like that. And if any neighbours happen to pass, well, they can see what happens to a naught girl can’t they?”

With that she began to draw the curtains back to offer an unimpeded view of my back from the road.

“Oh no please Mam, don’t let anybody see me.” I pleaded with her. “Every body knows me in this road; I’ll never be able to live it down.”

“Don’t be so stupid girl. Do you really think anyone will see your face? All they will see is a bright red well punished bottom and they will think, now there’s a site, a naughty girl that’s got what she deserved. You can stay like that for half an hour to ponder your misdeeds and anticipate what else is in store for you. For there is plenty more to come you know, we’re far from finished. Don’t you dare move either; I’ll be just over there doing some work, I will notice any change to your position and wow betide you if I have to get up.”

I was mortified standing there feeling so humiliated and on view. I was crucially aware of the expanse of window behind me and to one side. I was so aware that anyone walking passed, or even driving past, would see me standing there in my short blouse, naked from my waist and with my blazing bottom stuck out and exposed like that. All I could think about was my throbbing cheeks. They were on fire and felt huge, about twice the size as normal, and they seemed to be like a beacon attracting the gaze of anyone around.

I was still crying; the tears were streaming down my face and I could not wipe them away so they collected under my chin. All I could do was sniff and gulp. I felt so wretched and sorry for myself. My humiliation was overwhelming as I imagined every body staring at me. They must be thinking: that’s Kimberly from next door. I wonder what she has done to deserve that. I felt like a very, very naughty girl; a bad girl that deserved severe punishment.

After a while though I managed to gain some composure and stopped crying. My butt still ached feverishly though and throbbed with every beat of my heart. Would this pain ever subside I thought? How can I take any more? I know that I am going to get the hairbrush next, what will that feel like? Judging by the strength and speed of how Mrs Curtis lays it on, surely this is going to be much worse than when I did it to myself. She won’t stop when I want her to either, I know that now, will I be able to take it? My mind began to fill with anticipation at the thought.

Then I began to start feeling aroused.

I had not given a thought to the sexuality of the proceedings so far, I had been too conscious of the assaults to my buttocks and the pain of the spanking. But now that I had started to think about the hairbrush, I could imagine the noise it made and the sting it would deliver as it landed. Gosh, on top of what I have already endured, this is going to be phenomenal. Then I had an image of myself as I had been a minute or so ago, blubbering and hollering and kicking up a fuss over Mrs Cutis’ lap. Next time though there would be a hairbrush in her hand and it would be slapping down noisily onto my red hot bare bottom. The vision of myself as a really bad girl having her naughty bare bottom soundly spanked with a hairbrush had me trembling with excitement and in anticipation.

I could do nothing to satisfy my yearnings though standing there with Mrs Curtis looking, so I just brought my legs together tightly and surreptitiously rubbed them together thinking that when the hairbrush lands, how much it was going to sting. I am just going to have to give myself up to it I thought, and submit to whatever Mrs Curtis thinks I deserve.

I stood there for ages. I could hear every car driving past and the footsteps of those walking past. I heard it as the steps of one pedestrian stopped and they paused for ages and I knew full well that they were scrutinising my naughty bare bottom. I tried to bury my head further into the wall with embarrassment; I was so sure that they could recognise me. I heard it as one vehicle screeched to a halt and even reverse so the driver could get a better look.

I continued to press my knees together to gain some pleasure to help me endure my predicament and all the while the time just slowly past on by.

Eventually I was aware of a presence behind me. Mrs Curtis had very quietly got up and was standing there. I was shocked; I felt her touching my bottom, examining the cheeks, squeezing them, patting the underside of each globe and making them wobble. She whispered close into my ear.

“Now then young lady, are you ready for your treatment to continue?”

“Oh yes please Mrs Curtis” I replied. “Can we get it over and done with?”

I immediately received a fast and furious series of spanks that rekindled the fire and had me squealing and hopping around again.

“What did I tell you about how I should be addressed? That is the third time that you have called me Mrs Curtis and you will just not learn. Any more of this young lady and I will have to take a cane to you.”

I had not even considered being caned. I was horrified at the thought of it and hoped more than anything that she would not carry out that threat.

“Oh no please Mam” I pleaded. “Please not the cane. I promise I will remember to address you properly.”

“Right, so bring your arms down and turn around to face me.”

I did as I was instructed. She looked me up and down. I felt her gazing at my pubic hair.

“Fetch the hairbrush then Kimberly; you know where it is kept.”

I ran from the room, aware of my nudity and her eyes watching my retreating red buttocks, up the stairs and into her bedroom.

There it was on her dressing table as it had been the other night; her Maison Pearson hairbrush. I was too anxious and nervous to spend any time indulging myself as I had before, but as soon as I had it in my hand those same sexy feelings filled me once more.

When I returned to the lounge, she was ready on the piano stool, sitting, waiting. I stood on her right hand side. She took the brush from me with her right hand and gestured silently with a finger of her left hand to her sturdy lap for me to get over.

I had those feelings of anxiety as before when I had got over, but this time with a much better idea of how much this was going to hurt.

I felt her bringing her right leg out to encircle both of mine, they were trapped. She pushed me lower into the carpet with a strong left arm. I was powerless to move and was filled with trepidation.

The brush was being tapped against my sore cheek. I became aware of its hardness and anticipated the sting of its first blow.

Then it happened, not one but four hard stinging spanks in quick succession that had me gasping as they came down all on the same spot: one, two, three and four. Then to the other side: one, two, three and four. Mrs Curtis brought them down much harder than I was able to do to myself and she made each one ring home with that resounding crack I had tried so hard to achieve with my awkward back-handed efforts. They stung like hell and I was hollering and kicking as soon as it started. She kept it up, four to one cheek then four to the other, over and over, faster and faster.

Soon I was desperate for it to stop, but knew that it would make no difference how ever much I pleaded. I just lay there with my head near the floor, hammering with my fists on the carpet, my blazing bottom in the air, yelling my heart out at the utter pain running down my legs and up my back, praying for it to soon be over. It just went on and on.

There was absolutely nothing I could do; but once I had accepted that one single and simple truth, that this was totally beyond my control; a different sensation seemed to overwhelm me. I gave myself up to it relinquishing all control of my being. My senses became clouded and my awareness of the surroundings vague. My hearing changed as though I was hearing things through a muffler. I was aware of the regular beating noise of the hairbrush coming down and the sound of someone crying, but I felt sure that it was happening somewhere and to someone else. Even the pattern of the carpet, so close to my face, was vague, distant and unfocused. I was between the states of dream and consciousness as if I was recalling a distant memory that I once had.

The pain throughout my body was excruciating of course; but it filled me so totally and completely that, by submitting to my fate and abandoning myself to this overwhelmingly, I was able to transcend the pain and enter a separate consciousness that was beyond the mere physical into a realm close to that of orgasm except that it did not climax but continued, inexorably, up and up and up to a state of pure ecstasy. I loved it and could not get enough. Now I did not want it to stop.

Eventually though, somewhere in the distance, I heard Mrs Curtis calling. She was saying my name and telling me to get up. Slowly I came back to reality. There was the carpet and its coloured pattern. I could smell the wool damp with my own tears. I saw my own hands outstretched before me the fingers still kneading at the pile. My heart was beating fast and I became aware of my own sobbing in deep gasps.

“Come on Kimberly, you can get up now. It’s all over. You’ve done very well. Come on now up you get.”

I was in a daze as I extricated myself from Mrs Curtis’ lap, my legs like jelly. I tried to stand up but she needed to help me onto my feet. My entire body was racked with a pain that emanated from my rear end and caused me to convulse with shock. She was comforting me with her arms around my shoulders leading me over to the sofa onto which she gently coxed me down onto my tummy.

“Lie down here Kimberly, there’s a good girl. You’ll be as right as rain in a little while. Just rest now. You’ve done very well for your first spanking, it was quite severe.”

“Oh Mrs Curtis, my bottom is so sore. Will this pain ever go away?” I was surprised that I was able to speak.

“Just you lie down there and I’ll get some cold cream to rub in and take the smart away. This will help you to recover.”

I sobbed and snuffled away while Mrs Curtis left the room. I brought my hands behind me to feel my buttocks. They were hard and swollen and seemed much larger than normal and were very hot. Soon, Mrs Curtis was there gently rubbing some soothing cold cream into the tender parts. I began to relax and stretched myself out onto the sofa to enjoy the experience. Her hands were soft and she expertly caressed my blazing cheeks with a circular movement all over the swollen globes.

I had stopped sobbing and was soon mewing softly at her tender touch. I opened my legs slightly to allow her better access between my cheeks. It was not long before her fingers were straying onto my lips and I did nothing to prevent her. I desperately wanted her to explore deep into my vagina so I raised my hips slightly to encourage this and opened my legs some more. Then her fingers were inside me and she was encircling my button with their moist tips. She knew exactly what I wanted and how to deliver the most exquisite sensations to me. This was the first time that I had ever had someone else do this to me and I was loving it. Soon I was gasping; I brought myself up into a crouching position with my head buried deep into the sofa and my butt in the air once again. My legs were getting wider and wider apart as I desperately wanted her to plunge her fingers deeper inside me, but she would not. She held me in a state of ecstasy just winding her fingers around and around my throbbing clitoris.

“Oh please, please Mam. “ I was calling her Mam again, submissive once more. “I’m such a naughty girl, I really deserved my punishment.”

Her fingers inside me were becoming rhythmic; she would circle a few times then tickle the tip, circle some more then take my button between her fingers and squeeze, then circle again.

“Oh I’m so naughty. I’m a naughty little girl with a well spanked bottom.”

Her fingers went around and around, squeeze, around, tickle, around, around.

“Please take me. Oh more, cane me, thrash me, hurt me, I want it hard.”

I could hear myself saying these things, it shocked me but I could not help myself; and all the while her fingers teased and taunted; around, tickle, around, squeeze.

Then, somewhere in the background, a trigger snapped and an overwhelming force engulfed me.

I saw Harold’s tearful face and felt so emotional I wanted to cry.

I felt the smooth texture of the back of a Maison Pearson hairbrush and I wanted to kiss it.

I thought of my red, swollen, well punished bottom sticking up in the air.

I imagined Mrs Curtis beating the living daylights out of it.

I was coming. I was reaching a climax that would have me exploding.

“Oh please, yes, oh yes, more, oh yes, yes, please, please, YES.”

I threw myself flat down thumping at the sofa panting; an orgasm so acute that I knew I would never stop being a very naughty girl and that I would need many visits to Mrs Curtis.

13,413 words

(The End)