Beccy snapped, “Laura, go upstairs to my bedroom, take your skirt and knickers off, and wait for me to come up. You so deserve the spanking I am going to give you.”
28 years old and about to suffer another spanking. Me, a teacher, every day telling off one student or another, giving them a detention or lines, the one in charge. Here though I am definitely not in charge and am very much subject to a mother daughter discipline regime, and one that involves me being spanked on a very regular basis. I had lost count of the number of times I had been spanked by Beccy but I knew this once again was a well deserved and fully justified spanking. Me the teacher needed to learn how to behave. A difficult process for me though it seemed.
I was learning. When Beccy told me off and pointed to the stairs I put my hand to my mouth to stop myself getting into even more trouble which is just as well as I was sure I was going to tell Mum how unfair she was being and that would have got me far worse than the hairbrush she was going to give me. I turned and went upstairs. I stood for a moment outside Mum’s bedroom thinking about the last few weeks, what they had meant to me, how happy I had been. Taking a deep breath I went to her bedroom as commanded and prepared myself for another hard spanking. I went to the drawer, got out the wooden backed hairbrush that had been used on my bottom so many times, at least not exactly the same one as they only last a few spankings, but there was a ready supply of replacements
Beccy wasn’t my real Mum, not even related actually. Beccy, Mrs Milton, was my first mentor when I started teaching. She took me under her wing and guided me. She was like my Mum then, I was 20 years old and she was 40, but looked much younger than her years. She spoke to me pretty much as my Mum did, almost as an equal most of the time but definitely in charge when she needed to impose her wishes on me. When I was good she was ever so sweet, and when I needed to be told I was doing things badly she was stern but in a motherly way, always having my interest at heart. She was my mentor until she left the school three years later. Now, eight years on I was at another school and what do you know but Mrs Milton turns up as a supply teacher. She came up to me like an old friend and we chatted about how my career had gone, and what she had done, a real nice chin wag as a mum and her daughter might have.
A few days later I was with Beccy, we were on first name terms now, in the staffroom and she told me her daughter, who was my age, had just got married and had gone to live abroad for her new husband’s job and how she missed having her daughter around. I felt sorry for her and as the weeks went by I found myself spending more and more time with Beccy, at the school and then outside. The first time we met up away from school was when she said she was looking for a new party dress and how her daughter used to go with her and that now she would have to make the choice herself. I offered to go with her and she was over the moon. We spent a lovely afternoon together going from shop to shop, stopping for a coffee to get our breaths back and then went to some more shops, and as usual ending up at the first shop and buying one of the first dresses we had seen.
We did some more joint shopping trips, sometimes looking for clothes for Beccy and on other occasions looking for me. We had such fun together, and I looked on her as a friend. One evening we sat in her kitchen having dinner and Beccy looked at me and said seriously, “You are like a daughter to me Laura, thank you.”
The age gap didn’t make any difference at all. It was funny sometimes when we were being served by shop assistants and I might be referred to as “Your daughter,” or Beccy as, “Your Mum,” but we just laughed, not even bothering to explain we were just friends.
“You know what I am Laura don’t you?” Beccy was laughing when I looked quizzical.
“I’m a chummy Mummy.”
It was my turn to laugh. “That’s so cool.” I laughed and said, “Well you are like a Mum to me Beccy,” and laughing I added, “Or should I call you Mum?”
Beccy laughed. “Well I don’t know about that,” then added, “Well it’s up to you Laura, I won’t mind at all.”
“Well, maybe when we are alone then?” I ventured.
“Oh I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends Laura,” Beccy said sounding offended.
I did call her Mum after that when we went shopping mainly and I would ask, “What do you think of this top Mum?”
“Too skimpy by far,” Beccy would answer in a motherly tone and would smile as I put it back. The shop assistants assumed we were Mum and daughter anyway.
Most of the time though I still called her Beccy.
Beccy was much taller than me, slim, with flowing blond hair, and she had the most beautiful green eyes that flashed stunningly when she was cross. She looked much younger than her years and always wore smart clothes whether wearing flowing below the knee dresses or jeans or even leggings. A modern mum is how I thought of her, a woman with a forceful personality and with strong views, both about life in general and how I should behave in particular.
We didn’t tell the staff at school, I’m not sure why, but Beccy suggested it would be better not to as they might read other things in to the relationship, and I went along with her, I suppose much as a daughter might bow to her Mum’s greater experience of such matters. Indeed I did enjoy taking on the substitute daughter’s role and I rather think Beccy enjoyed her motherly role.
As I got more comfortable being with Beccy and found the age gap less and less intimidating so I would revert to my ‘quick to judge mode,’ being argumentative and judgemental, none of which Beccy seemed to mind and I just thought it was me and Beccy accepted me with all my faults. At least it didn’t seem so at the time and as she never pulled me back I treated her more like someone my own age who I might argue with maybe snapping at them when they didn’t agree with me and minutes later think nothing of it.
We met up most evenings and weekends and every now and again I would sleepover at Beccy’s. She would make dinner and I would wash up the dinner things and put them away, with the usual daughter, “Must I?” pseudo complaint and her wagging finger pointing me to the sink.
It was after one dinner that I objected more strongly than normal and when Beccy told me to get going and wash up I stamped my foot. Beccy snapped, “Your choice young lady, do the washing up or I’ll give you a spanking.”
I froze and so did Beccy, just for a moment but in that moment she blushed and I blushed, and we knew it was a Freudian moment.
“Sorry,” Beccy said still blushing and looking at the floor.
“No don’t be, I probably earned it.”
“A spanking?” adding after a moment, “At your age?”
It was then I told her about the teacher’s camp and how I had been spanked so often at camp and afterwards and that actually it had done me so much good. Beccy explained that she spanked her daughter on a regular basis and almost up to her wedding night.
Beccy asked, “Then spanking you isn’t such a big deal, I mean I am sure you don’t relish being put across my lap with your knickers pulled down but if it is something you will accept then I will most certainly oblige whenever I think you need one.”
“Well I do like you, a lot, and respect you, and telling you I am spanked was so hard, but now I have told you I reckon actually being spanked is, well, so right I suppose.”
We were silent for a few moments before Beccy said, “Well, accepting me spanking you is a big step and not something I ever expected to do to you, but if I am going to discipline you I want you to know I have always considered spanking an ideal deterrent. It’s quick and direct and I know made my daughter a much better person, a much more responsible adult.”
I knew she was right and as being spanked was now so familiar to me I really didn’t see any issue. I added, “I do want you to discipline me Beccy because I know you will only do it if I really earn it..”
“You will do as I say, no arguing, no back chat, no sulking?” Beccy asked.
“Well I suppose so,” I answered hesitantly adding more definitely, “Yes, of course Beccy.”
“I never ask twice Laura.” Beccy’s tone was stern, probing.
Well I was so in to her, not sexually, but respectful, admiring, looking up to her, wanting to be like her. I asked quietly, “How strict were you with your daughter?”
Beccy knew I wanted to agree but she still answered truthfully, leaving me in no doubt what I would be agreeing to. “I am a very strict Mum, and put her across my lap at least once a week, sometimes more.”
I wasn’t expecting such a clear response, but respected her all the more for it. Of course as I thought I had so regularly pictured myself across Beccy’s lap when in bed, and had often masturbated thinking of her spanking me, and here she was threatening me with exactly that.
I suddenly remembered the reason for starting the conversation and said firmly, “What about me stamping my foot, you can’t spank me for that as I didn’t know then.”
Laura glared at me and said sternly, “What part of no arguing and no back chat didn’t you understand young lady?”
I suppose I understood. What I saw as being self opinionated was really just rude back chat and I knew my fiery mouth was getting me in to deeper and deeper trouble. I stammered, “I mean, well, I didn’t know and you need to let me off that don’t you? Please.” I knew if it was me the teacher listening I would give the student short shrift but when it was me on the receiving end I supposed it was worth the try. It didn’t work though.
Beccy looked cross. “You know actually there have been quite a few times when I would have spanked you if you were my actual daughter.”
“Really, I didn’t realise?” That was true, but I suppose she meant more than likely when I argued with her or was horrible to her when she asked me to do something I didn’t want to do.
Beccy looked sternly at me, crossed her arms, and said, “So Laura I don’t think you should be let off, not if I take in to account all the other times. It will clean the slate of your bad behaviour to date, and from my perspective it will certainly make me feel a lot better if I spank you now and anyway if I am to discipline you then you need to learn not to argue with me.”
Beccy looked so stern and those gorgeous green eyes of hers flashed so, and I knew she was right and had my best interests at heart. “OK,” I agreed sounding reluctant but knowing I probably deserved it, well did deserve it. I suppose my teacher training had taught me the benefit of good behaviour and paying for errors, and being spanked covered all the bases.
Beccy responded quickly, “Right, so you and I will go to my bedroom young lady and whilst I get my hairbrush you will take off your skirt and knickers. Understood?”
I found her so intense, so authoritative, I accepted her demands. I wasn’t looking forward to being spanked, but if she was fair with me then I knew being punished was going to be an ever important part of our chummy mummy friendship. Beccy pointed to the door and I turned to lead the way wondering if she was looking at my bottom as I climbed the stairs in front of her. As we reached the top of the stairs I stopped momentarily, realising that my quick temper has led to me being spanked once again.
Beccy pushed my shoulder and I pressed forward walking in to her bedroom. I stood against the bed and watched her turn her chair in to the room and reckoned that same chair had been the setting of many a spanking before now. Beccy turned to me and said firmly, “Skirt and knickers off young lady then stand by the chair.”
I winced at the instruction but did exactly as I was told whilst watching her go to her chest of drawers and take out a wooden backed hairbrush which she took with her to the chair and sat down as I stepped out of my knickers. She looked intently at me and I wasn’t sure if she saw my pussy, but probably not. She lifted the hairbrush up and let it fall with a slap in to her open palm as I put my skirt and knickers neatly on the bed before stepping over to her and standing to her side looking at her stern face and then down to her skirt covered lap.
“Over my lap young lady,” she snapped, and I bit my lip as I bent down across her lap my hands on the floor and as I looked under the chair I saw my feet on the other side. Beccy was being so firm with me, in a motherly way, and as she rubbed my bottom she scolded me. “You do know how much you have earned this spanking don’t you Laura.”
I took a deep breath as I replied, “Yes and I’m so sorry I upset you.”
“I am sure you are sorry Laura, but believe me you will be much sorrier by the time I am finished.”
Well that told me. I knew what a hard spanking was of course and particularly when a hairbrush is used, but this spanking was going to be different. I didn’t have any of the erotic feelings I had before when spanked by Danielle or Letitia. This was discipline, a mother putting her daughter right, in her place, a punishment to be given to a daughter who deserved to be punished. I wasn’t looking forward to it, not one bit, but I respected Beccy and knew she was doing what was best for me. Sure she said it would make her feel better but that will be a release of her frustration at me for being rude all those times, just as me smacking a student was a release for me. Much more important, to me, was that I needed to learn, wanted to learn, so I would get back in to her good books. I so wanted Beccy to remain my chummy mummy and if being spanked when she decided was what I had to do then I will readily accept my punishment.
Beccy rubbed my bottom until she said, “I have rules Laura, spanking rules. You will not try to cover your bottom, however you can squirm around on my lap and kick your legs, to a degree, in fact the more I can see the spanking is hurting the harder I will spank and the quicker you will be learning your lesson. For the future I will set boundaries for you so you will know when you have earned a spanking. Not strict boundaries but guidelines because I won’t have you ever tell me you haven’t broken a specific rule. The decision to spank you is mine and mine alone.” It was a statement, said firmly, and no answer was expected.
Beccy gave me my first spank and without any gap proceeded to give me spank after spank and as my bottom started to sting so I did start to squirm, ever so slightly to begin with but more and more as the spanking progressed. Beccy was able to keep spanking and her hand didn’t seem to waiver.
It was so different to my other spankings, so hard, and so not sexy. There was no rubbing, no fingers straying down the inside of my thighs or teasing my pussy, but on the other hand as I knew I had earned the spanking it was a ‘proper’ spanking and one that was making me regret my rudeness. After what seemed an already endless spanking I felt her lift up the hairbrush, pat my bottom a couple of times with it, then spank me ever so hard with the wooden paddle. I squirmed and kicked harder and told Beccy how I was going to be good in future and the more I blubbered the harder she spanked and the more I promised to be good and the more it felt like telling off my students, making them want to behave and me teaching them right from wrong.
The spanking ended but I continued crying for quite a while. Still Beccy didn’t rub my bottom but almost immediately she told me, “Now get up and when you are ready you will wash your face and come downstairs.”
I eased myself off her lap and rubbed my bottom like crazy. I saw Beccy through tear filled eyes get up, put the hairbrush back in the drawer, looked only briefly towards me, then left the room. I stood looking at the closed door still rubbing my bottom and feeling very very sorry for myself. 28 years old and just given such a hard spanking and still crying and sobbing and my bottom stung so much. Slowly I recovered my composure and went to the mirror and turned to look at my bottom and even through tear filled eyes I could see how red my bottom was and as I relaxed I felt my bottom rather than rubbing it and was somehow amazed how so warm my bottom felt, and when I pressed the marks I knew they were bruises that would be sore for ages.
I thought over the discussion before the spanking. Had I really been so rude to Beccy? I hoped I hadn’t been but I suppose I was normally very short with people so guessed I probably was rude and Beccy was unhappy with me. The last thing I wanted though was to upset Beccy, my friend, my chummy mummy as she called me. It was bad to upset a friend and I had so often regretted my short temper when I argued with friends my own age, it was far worse upsetting Beccy as she was older than me and I respected her and really I should thank her for taking me to task as she did. Yes, she was right. I know my friends got frustrated with my attitude but Beccy was more experienced and had a daughter who she took to task by spanking her and so knew the benefit of a good spanking, and here I was regretting my attitude and knowing that Beccy only had my best interests at heart.
I went to the bathroom and washed my face, looked again at my very red bottom before stepping in to my knickers and easing the elastic over my bottom, gasping as I let the elastic go, and allowed a few moments to let the stinging settle down before putting my skirt back on.
I smiled at myself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom making my way downstairs and finding Beccy in the living room sitting in an armchair reading the paper. She looked up at me and when I smiled she smiled back but waited for me to speak. I went over to her looked at her and said, “I am so sorry Beccy and know I deserved my spanking.”
Beccy smiled as she stood up towering above me it seemed and said, “Give me a hug then,” and I threw myself at her my arms around her neck as she pulled me close to her rubbing my back, making me feel secure. We clung on to each other and gently swayed and in those moments felt closer to her than ever before.
After quite a while Beccy pulled her head back and looked at me sternly, “Now we know you understand you needed to be spanked and you will accept my discipline in future Laura.”
I smiled, well half smiled, felt pensive, nodded, and answered, “Yes, I know.” After a short gap I added, “I don’t suppose I’ll get it right straight away though.”
Beccy gave me a broad grin and replied, “Don’t worry about that Laura, I expect you will need to go across my lap again, many many times in fact.”
That was an understatement. I tried to be less sharp but lost my cool so often I found myself being put across Beccy’s lap at least once a week and every time promised Beccy and promised myself to be more respectful as I looked once again in the mirror and saw my reddened bottom and knew I had fully deserved each and every spanking.
We stayed on very good terms, just like a Mum and her daughter, and when I was good Beccy laughed and smiled and gave me hugs and kisses. Then I snapped at her and froze as Beccy’s face turned stern, she would say, “Go to my bedroom and wait for me young lady,” and without even attempting to argue I ran upstairs, groaning, feeling sorry for myself, even got the hairbrush out and turned the chair in to the room, and waited for the unmistakeable sound of Beccy walking up the stairs.
Half an hour later and very chastened I would be in the bathroom looking at my red bottom, still crying, before getting dressed going back downstairs, telling Beccy I was sorry, and gratefully accepting her hugs and kisses and thankful she still wanted to be my friend. Over the weeks and months I know my attitude improved and being spanked most certainly made me a better person. Every now and again we would discuss our relationship and Beccy said how thankful she was I knew how she was helping me and whilst I still found being spanked humiliating but she kept my discipline a private matter which I really appreciated.
Beccy worked at the school for months and no one knew of our friendship outside school and certainly no one knew Beccy disciplined me, but when I snapped at someone when Beccy heard me she waited until we were alone, would take me by the upper arm, lean in towards my ear and hiss, “When we get home we will be going to my bedroom before dinner.”
I would nod, accept her decision, spend the rest of the day trying so hard to be on my best behaviour, sit in the car chatting as happily as I could, whilst Beccy spoke as though it was just so normal, until we got home, closed the front door, and Beccy pointed to the stairs and the discipline had started.
Week after week was the same, I was pleasant and friendly most of the time, would snap for no good reason, Beccy got cross, I got spanked, cried, rubbed my bottom, apologised, exchanged hugs, and we moved on. I never held it against Beccy, why should I? She was doing me a favour because as time went on I realised I snapped less, was less self-opinionated, and was actually liked more by my friends.
Beccy told me about a work group she was part of, well friends of hers actually but all teachers who believed it was increasingly necessary to restore discipline within schools. There was already a movement to allow parents to discipline within the family environment and teachers felt they were being made the scapegoats for discipline within society. This teachers group was due to meet at Beccy’s and she asked me if I wanted to come or whether I would prefer to go out when the group met. I jumped at the chance to join them, I was a teacher after all, and also believed discipline was a good thing.
“That’s great Laura,” Beccy said with a beaming smile. “Now please do remember it’s a serious workgroup and you have to deliver a presentation on discipline and you must take it seriously.” Beccy continued, “Oh, and for goodness sakes dress like you were going to school as a teacher and not your weekend gear, and don’t forget.”
I laughed. But whereas a while ago I would have snapped at Beccy, telling her to mind her own business and I would jolly well wear what I wanted to, I didn’t. I kept my thoughts to myself. How very grown up I thought.
The day came and I was upstairs getting dressed when I heard the first few members of the group come down. I had had a row with Beccy the evening before, over what to have for dinner, not a bad row and I didn’t get spanked. However I was annoyed with her when going to sleep and thought today I should show her I had my own views so I got dressed in a t-shirt and short skirt, bare legs and high heels. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought I looked great and was sure everyone, well everyone other than Beccy that is, would think I looked really cool. I walked down the stairs and bounced in to the living room and all the faces turned to look at me. They weren’t admiring looks though, in fact most look quite startled. One even said, “Beccy, I thought there was a dress code?”
I followed her gaze and looked straight at Beccy who looked less than amused and at that moment I realised I had made a bad mistake. “Sssorry,” I stammered. It didn’t help.
“Laura,” Beccy said sternly, “What did I tell you about how to dress?”
I flinched. “Sorry Beccy, I’ll get changed, I’ll go now.”
I turned only to hear Beccy shout firmly, “Do not leave the room until I tell you to young lady.”
I stopped short, licked my lips as I turned to face Beccy, looking steadfastly at her. However she spoke to the woman next to her and I started to look at the others and could not help but see the fixed glares from so many of the women present. I also realised for the first time the group was made up wholly of women, of all ages it seemed, what looked like in their sixties and even a couple of the starters who looked more like 23 or 24, far younger than my own 28. Even they looked so far from happy.
Beccy remained frosty as everyone got ready. Each person had to do a presentation about discipline in schools and particularly how corporal punishment should be reintroduced in a meaningful way. I hadn’t prepared much but was amazed to see the slides that all the others had produced. I was going to prepare something last night but what with the argument with Beccy I thought blow it. I wish I hadn’t been so hot headed now. It wasn’t helped when Beccy caught me in a corner of the room by myself and whispered in to my ear, “Later on you and I will go to my bedroom and I will teach you to do as I ask.” I blushed, looked at Beccy, and just nodded. I knew what that meant.
Beccy stood up and said, “OK everyone, let’s start the presentations. As usual we will vote at the end and the worst two presenters get their bottoms spanked.” Beccy laughed and I saw lots of smiles around the room before Beccy continued, “Our usual incentive,” which got more laughs. I didn’t laugh. I had often fantasised about being told to prepare a presentation at work, foul it up, and be put across my boss’s lap, or worse his assistants lap, and spanked. The reality was strange particularly as I hadn’t known about that rule and quickly scanned the instructions which I hadn’t bothered to read and now wished I had. It was right there and of course as everyone was promoting spanking as the best incentive for students it was obviously apt to use that as the incentive in the workshops. The best two presenters get to spank the worst two. I learnt another lesson. Read what’s given to me. I had to face the prospect of my fantasy coming true, all too quickly and in front of so many people.
I watched the first four presentations which were very good. I was next and even I knew I sucked.
The others that followed me were all much better and when the discussion came afterwards everyone put up their hand voting mine as the poorest. Jackie was chosen to be the second worst. We looked at each other both blushing but Jackie shrugged her shoulders as though it was bad luck and to be fair she only got one vote different to the third worst, not like me getting everyone’s vote.
Worse was to come. Adele and Simone were judged the best and second best. Beccy said sternly, “Laura, stand in front of Adele please.” I walked over to her wondering if I was going to be put straight across her lap. Instead Beccy said in the same stern tone, “You need an extra lesson Laura in view of your direct disobedience on your clothes.”
I heard another voice say, “Thought so,”
Beccy continued, “As your skirt is so short I think it appropriate that you have your legs smacked.”
“That’ll teach her,” I heard.
Beccy said, “Adele, if you would do the honours please.”
Adele said, “Happy to Beccy,” as she took my arm and turned me around. I was looking at the crowd of faces, most with disapproving looks, as Adele lifted my skirt and tucked the hem in to the waistband. She made me take a step back so I was still facing everyone as she rubbed the back of my left leg.
“Two dozen please Adele,” Beccy ordered and after a moment added, “Each leg.”
I gasped as Adele rubbed my leg a few more times and then there was a moment of no rubbing before the pain spread across the back of my leg just as the slapping sound filled the room. I gasped closed my eyes and when I opened them again saw a sea of faces some smiling and others just looking satisfied, as though I earned it. Smack after smack left me bending my leg, gasping in pain, tears filling my eyes, as smack after smack continued. There was a gap, Adele rubbed my right leg, the smacking started over again, tears dribbled down my face as the smacking continued. 28 years old and having my legs smacked like a schoolgirl. It was humiliating, but chastening as well as in my heart of hearts I knew I deserved it as I had disobeyed Beccy, my chummy mummy, and knew I had earned this smacking.
Adele rubbed both my legs in turn as they stung from the hard smacking. I breathed deeply as I tried to recover and as I did I looked up and saw the two chairs in front of me and realised both had a hairbrush on the seat. I looked sideways and saw Jackie standing there, her skirt and knickers removed, waiting for her spanking. Adele stopped rubbing my legs and turned me around to face her, looking up in to my eyes, putting her thumbs inside the waistband of my knickers, yanking them down to my ankles and I heard the snapped order, “Step out of your knickers Laura.” I obeyed, first one foot then the other and as I sniffed Adele unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor. “Pick it up,” she ordered, and as I knelt down I knew my bottom was clearly on view and no doubt my pussy.
Adele stood up, went to a chair and sat down just as Simone sat on the other chair.
“Go over their laps you two,” Beccy ordered.
Jackie and I looked at each other as Adele and Simone took our arms and pulled us gently downwards. I looked at the floor as it came up to meet me, then under the chair to see my own legs a few inches off the floor, all the time knowing this was my own fault. I was good at presenting, usually worked hard, and should have been in the top two not the bottom two. This was going to be a real lesson. After all I was being spanked in front of a group of Beccy’s friends. I looked sideways and saw so many smiling faces looking at me, winking at Adele as she rubbed my bottom, and I even heard words of encouragement like, “Teach her good Adele.” I felt humiliated, not because of being spanked in public, that happened enough at teacher camp and in fact I found it quite a turn on, but this was in front of Beccy’s friends, people I had met before, will meet again, and they will remember watching me being spanked, a 28 year old, a teacher myself.
Adele landed her first spank and I heard laughs from the watching group and as spank followed spank so there was a hum of chatter, I even heard two women discussing how they would be spanking me much harder whilst another couple was still discussing the project they did. It was as though it was just a normal thing to happen, adults being spanked, and maybe it was for this group. Maybe it will be for me if I come again, and as the spanking continued and still there was laughter in the room and chatter so I thought maybe next time it will be me chatting and laughing and one of the others suffering the humiliation of the spanking.
I know I deserved the spanking of course. I had failed to prepare properly, I had made a mess of delivery, and as it was clearly stated the penalty was a spanking I knew I deserved every last spank. Mind you, Adele’s spanking wasn’t particularly hard, nowhere near as hard as Beccy or some of the other women who have spanked me. It stung, a bit, and when Adele spanked the backs of my legs so that stung even more, but her hand spanking was more degrading than painful.
The hairbrush hurt rather more. The flat wooden paddle brush thrashed down on my bare bottom and I know I struggled then. My legs kicked, I squirmed around on her lap, I even heard one woman say, “Go for it Adele, make it a hard one,” and the next few spanks really stung, like when Beccy used the hairbrush on me.
One thing I did notice even whilst across Adele’s lap and being spanked was how Adele’s spanking was different to Beccy’s. I was always very aware that Beccy spanking me was only disciplinary, a mum scolding and spanking her daughter. However Adele spanking me was different. Hard’ish but because of the chatting and laughter in the room it seemed more playful than disciplinary and her rubbing hand was more sensual than Beccy’s. When Adele rubbed my bottom my pussy quivered. One time Adele rubbed my legs and her hand went down between my thighs. I gasped as for just a moment she brushed my pussy. I think she realised her mistake and suddenly spanked me with more gusto, but I remembered the feeling.
The spanking ended and the chatter got louder as I was ordered to stand up. I saw Jackie standing already, her eyes as red as mine but she was smiling, saying to a friend, “Next time it will be me spanking you,” and her friend replying, “No way sweetie, I have never been in the last two yet and I won’t be there anytime soon.” There was more laughter and I knew all the women here actually enjoyed the challenge, and the threat, so a spanking was part of their fun. Wow, I thought, and suddenly I felt my pussy quiver just as it did when I got spanked by someone I really fancied. Just then I wanted to go somewhere and do myself.
I didn’t though. Not then anyway. Beccy announced, “OK everyone, that’s it for today. Please pick up a page from the table and prepare that subject for next month. It’s at Adele’s.”
Everyone said their goodbye’s, even to me with several of the women saying, “See you next time I hope Laura.” I was quite taken, and went over to the table and picked up a piece of paper which read, “Should you be able to spank when booked for a private tutorial?” Well that was right up my street as I taught music in people’s homes and there were several of my students who really deserved to be spanked as they just didn’t practice. I laughed at myself when I realised that actually was exactly why I had been spanked today. Well I’ll, prepare next time for sure I promised myself.
Suddenly we were alone, me and Beccy. I said, “Thank you Beccy, I enjoyed that, well not being spanked and having my legs smacked, but I learnt a lot.”
Beccy half smiled, and said, “Well your learning something has not yet ended today my sweetie.”
I looked surprised. Beccy though went on unperturbed. “Laura,” Beccy said sternly, and I looked fixedly at her, my eyes wide open, full of respect. “Laura,” she repeated, “How dare you disobey me so blatantly, and in front of this very group. When I tell you to dress formally I expect you to do just that, not deliberately wear exactly what I told you not to.”
She looked so stern, standing tall so I had to look up to her, her green eyes flashing beautifully, scarily even, her very presence intimidating, demanding, domineering.
“Sorry Beccy, but,” I stammered but she interrupted me.
“No buts young lady. I want obedience.”
“Yes I will, I am, I mean,” Beccy stopped me short again.
“Listen to me Laura. We will clear up, and I mean you will help me and you had better not object.”
I wasn’t going to for sure.
Beccy continued, “We will then go upstairs to my bedroom to discuss your deplorable behaviour and why your presentation was so bad.”
“Can’t we discuss it downstairs?” I knew what going upstairs would mean.
Beccy said emphatically, “No I really do think we need to discuss this upstairs.”
We worked together for half an hour washing and drying all the things, getting the rooms straight, and as we both breathed a sigh of relief that was done Beccy turned to me and said matter of factly, “Right young lady, my bedroom please.”
“Oh,” I said quietly and when Beccy pointed at the door I quickly ran out and up the stairs. I got to her bedroom and looked behind me to find Beccy following me.
“Inside young lady.”
I was in no position to argue so I walked in to Beccy’s room, went to the centre of the room, turned, and was about to apologise again when she held her hand up and said, “No apologies Laura, they don’t work as you know.”
I did know. Apologies only happened after a spanking. I watched Beccy turn the chair in to the room and walk over to her drawers and take out her hairbrush. She went to the chair and sat down holding the hairbrush. She said, “How hard did Adele spank you?”
“Not all that hard really,” I admitted.
“She does seem to have the hang of smacking legs but she’s too nice when it comes to bare bottoms.” Beccy smiled to herself looked up at me and continued still smiling, “Luckily I don’t have the same hang ups, as you are about to find out. Get ready please, your skirt and knickers on the bed.”
I groaned as I got ready, seeing Beccy’s look of satisfaction at my distress, unzipped my short skirt and let it fall to the ground and then slipped my knickers down my legs stepping out of them, picking up the skirt, and putting both on the bed. Beccy tapped her thighs, still well covered by her skirt, and I obediently bent over and once again today the floor came up to meet me. Beccy rubbed my bottom, but before spanking me explained, “After I have spanked you, and you have washed and calmed yourself down, you will start your project again, and this time you will do it properly. Tomorrow morning I am going shopping but you will stay here and work on your project. I will be back for lunch. Straight after lunch you will present to me, and I can tell you my girl if it is anywhere near as bad as today you will go across my lap again. Understood?”
I squirmed around and saw Beccy still looked cross but I agreed. “Yes Beccy, of course.”
Beccy lifted her hand and thrashed it down on my already red bottom. This was a very different spanking to Adele’s. I was tearful quite quickly and sobbing before much longer, promising myself I will prepare properly. Yes Beccy was right. I was lazy today and must learn not to be, and she was certainly teaching me a good lesson. The same thing I tried to make my students understand but without the spanking, yet how much easier, and better, to teach the student as he or she was across the teachers lap, having their bottom spanked, tears flowing, legs kicking, and squirming around. A real education. Just as Beccy was teaching me now. Just as Beccy taught me even more strongly when she used the hairbrush. A really hard lesson.
It took me ages to recover after the spanking. Beccy went downstairs and I was in the bathroom rubbing cool cream on my hot sore stinging bottom, still sobbing. It took me quite a while to calm down but when I did I went to my bedroom and got the materials I used for the project, took them downstairs, went to the computer and started researching again, more intensely. I had learned my lesson and didn’t want to fail Beccy again.
I heard Beccy enter the study, come up to me, put her arms around my neck from behind and give me a hug. “Good girl,” she said as she looked at the screen, before leaving me to it. Two hours later she came back in to the room and said, “Time for bed Laura, you can get back to it tomorrow.”
In the morning after breakfast Beccy went shopping and I finished my project, leaving time to tidy it up and trial my presentation. I even dressed in my work clothes, not my weekend clothes, so I felt right. Beccy came home and as promised, after lunch, we went to the study and she made me give her my presentation. I noticed a hairbrush had materialised on the table which was a reminder of what will happen if I don’t say it properly, and actually right then I was so thankful she had made it so clear what would happen if I was poor again. I had learnt my lesson.
The presentation went very well. “That is so good Laura, I knew you could do it.”
Of course I knew I could do it as well. I had just been too lazy, too annoyed with Beccy, my chummy mum, to care. Well after my spanking and the threat of another one I did care, I did do the work, and it did go well.
“Here Laura, for you.”
Beccy gave me tickets to the show I wanted to see, that we wanted to see, so this evening we will be going out together, like a mum with her daughter, friends but better than friends, a mum who can be friends but retain firm disciplinary control over me. I wanted it that way and I do believe it was how she enjoyed our relationship so it was good for both of us.
Beccy added firmly as I took the tickets from her, “Keep it up Laura and you won’t get spanked again when the group meets next month.”
“Oh I will really try.” I hugged Beccy and she hugged me and I felt secure, protected, and yes she is quick to discipline me, and so she should of course, but she is also so supportive. I laughed to myself as I pondered the word supportive and thought immediately of her lap, being across it and supported by it as she spanked me.
I went upstairs to get changed. Beccy’s words, keep it up, played over in my mind. I smiled, but I knew me. This time I had a real incentive, I didn’t want a spanking so soon after yesterday’s as my bottom was still stinging. I wasn’t sure about next time. Being spanked in front of the group of women was a turn on. Maybe I will get myself in the bottom two again so I get spanked again. I smiled at the thought. A wicked thought I knew, one that might end up being ever so painful if one of the other women were to spank me, but sexy. I lay on my bed, my hand between my legs, gently rubbing my pussy, my other hand gently caressing my breasts and squeezing my nipples, thinking of Adele, across her lap, her hand brushing my pussy as I came, strong pulsating orgasms.
Too late I heard Beccy’s footsteps in the hallway. Had she heard? She must have done. Will she throw open the door to my bedroom and come storming in with her hairbrush? I was still panting from my orgasms as the time passed, Beccy did come out of her bedroom but didn’t barge in, she just knocked on the door and said, “You should get ready Laura or else we will be late?”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I thought how lucky I was to have such a great chummy mummy. She definitely heard me masturbate but was giving me space. Yes, what a great mum, no doubt one who will spank me again, many times I knew, but one so eager to teach me whilst being my friend. When I did get downstairs I thought how pretty she looked in her colour co-ordinated top and long skirt, her blonde hair resting on her shoulders, standing so tall in her high heels, and when I saw her smile I went over to her and kissed her on the cheek saying, “Thanks Mum.”
After we hugged and I let go I turned and was surprised when she gave my bottom a hard slap.
“What’s that for?” I demanded to know as I spun around my eyes blazing, trying desperately to hold back a knee jerk rebuff. It’s lucky I did.
Beccy looked stern as she said, “You know very well young lady, unless you need me to discuss it with you in my bedroom?”
Yes she knew I had masturbated. “OK, Mum, you’ve made your point,” I said, smiling, adding “Sorry.”. What a Mum I thought, giving me just enough leeway, and me knowing I was a whisker away from another well-deserved spanking.
“Best behaviour Laura, or else,” she added. I knew what that meant as well so as we walked out to the car we were every bit the mum and her daughter ready to enjoy the evening together and whilst on the one hand firm friends, on the other also like a mum and her daughter we both knew and accepted unquestionably that Beccy was very much in charge of me.
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