After days of deliberation, Sophie decided she would take up her mother’s offer of providing correction in the form of corporal punishment when required. For the first time since leaving home at eighteen years old to go to university Sophie would hand over disciplinary control.

Even making the decision took a weight off Sophie’s mind. She had overcome the difficulty she felt about being spanked at thirty-eight years old by her fifty-seven year old mother.

It was Saturday morning and Sophie was going to break the news to her mother today.

After a long soak in the bath Sophie dried herself with a soft warm towel. Looking at her bottom in the mirror she imagined what it would look like after a spanking. She knew he mother thought hand spankings were a waste of time. As she hadn’t done anything naughty she wondered if she would just get the hairbrush or would it be one of her favoured Lochgelly tawses. Perhaps her mother would try to make a point and go straight for the cane. Sophie shuddered.

Sophie was quite proud of her bottom and often wore clothes to ensure it was well displayed. Reaching back she spread her cheeks imagining the humiliating view she would present. As she watched the lips of her vulva peel open she realized there would be no way to conceal her arousal.

Pulling on a new pair of white cotton panties made Sophie feel like a naughty schoolgirl. She wondered if now that she was older she would still have to lower her panties for the punishment.

It was a nice warm day so Sophie put on a cotton dress and a pair of sandals and walked round to her mother’s house.

“Mummy,” Sophie began, “I was thinking about what you said last week. You know, about the punishment.”

Celia smiled to herself, knowing what was coming. “One moment dear, I’ll just make us a nice cup of tea and then we can have a little chat.”

Sophie was left fidgeting while the kettle boiled.

“Right! What did you want to say?”

“It’s about the punishment… I would like you to start punishing me again.” Sophie grimaced.

“Okay. By the way, I had a visit from Elaine White the other day. Do you ever see her daughter Amy at school?”

Sophie was a little confused. She hadn’t expected her mother to just say okay and carry on as if nothing had happened.”

“Mum, I said I would like you to start punishing me again.”

“Yes dear, I heard you the first time.”

Celia continued to talk about her visit from Amy White’s mother but Sophie wasn’t really listening. Today wasn’t going as planned; she had expected to tell her mother that she would accept discipline and then have her undivided attention.

A nice friendly chat followed by a soundly punished bottom.

Desperate for her mother’s attention Sophie finally asked, “Can we do it now? Can I have my punishment now?”

Mrs. Dupree smiled. “No Sophie, the first rule you have to learn is that I decide when and how you will be disciplined.”

The subject was dropped and a slightly disappointed Sophie finished her tea and soon made her excuse to leave.

As her mother kissed her goodbye she announced: “I shall punish you on Saturday morning at 9 o’clock.”

Sophie couldn’t believe it, a whole week to wait.

“But, Mummy!”

“Don’t interrupt! I haven’t finished. The punishment will be most severe and it will enable you to decide whether we continue with the arrangement or not.”

After mentally preparing herself for punishment and not receiving it Sophie walked home with a mixed bag of emotions. She felt flat, sad, guilty, foolish and aroused to point she felt she was going to explode.

Arriving home, Sophie kicked off her sandals, grabbed her riding crop from the vestibule and ran up to her bedroom. As she removed her dress she was conscious of the pressure building in her bladder but right now she had an even more desperate need.

Tilting the full length mirror down slightly she sat in front of it with parted thighs. Another wave of sadness came over her as she saw the cute panties she had worn especially for today. Without any real thought, she brought the crop down on her cotton covered vulva.

This was different to the previous occasions where she had taken her time to get settled before taking aim and delivering firm but controlled strokes. Today was more emotional, more desperate. Sophie sobbed as she whipped the crop down as fiercely as she could. Again and again the crop sliced down. It was as if Sophie had no control over her actions. After what must have been at least thirty strokes Sophie pauses and threw down the crop. The cotton gusset of her pretty new panties flooded.

Sophie ran to the toilet, sat down and let her bladder empty through the fabric of her panties. As she felt the lukewarm itch of the pee washing her anus and dripping from her buttock she realized the sadness was drifting away.

Sophie was delighted when her friend Pippa called round that afternoon, eager to hear how Sophie’s punishment had gone.

Retelling the story brought a few more tears from Sophie and the two ladies spent the afternoon cuddled up under the duvet. All Sophie wanted today was to be held.