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It also transpired that it was the custom to hand out one, five or ten dollar bills to the birthday spankee – which was something else I didn’t know about. I was super-embarrassed to contemplate an actual spanking, but also pretty eager to collect some birthday dollars – this was a new twist to the story. Aunt Peggy saw my dazed grin, and said: “It’s up to you – no spanking, no loot honey-bun! Your choice!” She sits, legs open, her chin on her hand, elbow on knee. “Hello all, I think you’ll like this un!” So, one December, Uncle Donald, his wife Peggy and my cousin Leanne collected 14-year-old me from JFK airport whilst my mum and dad went on a business trip to Pittsburgh for a week. The idea was that we’d all meet up for Christmas again in Michigan. At no point did the encounter become overtly sexual, although I sensed Leanne did want to touch me more intimately. But somehow I didn’t want that at all – I just loved the attention to my bottom and the heady mix of my hot, well-spanked cheeks with the cool, aromatic cream. It was delicious, and I could have stayed there like that all night. Peggy and Donald told me that they’d spanked all their kids growing up, and that they’d all turned out fine. They were amazed that my parents didn’t spank me, and surprised that we didn’t have to take our trousers down for the cane at school. In the Grand Rapids Bible Belt, it was pants down for a spanking, whether at home or at school.
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She sat down on that vestry chair, creaking slightly under the weight of bare acre, which made Tasha giggle. Her freshly spanked cheeks on wood nestled. She was ready! Vicar went over, displaying a bare quite boyish but chunky, too much indulgence and not enough fasting. In looks both fore, and aft, Penny was reminded of Finn, husband and partner to Laywoman Lawson, who as it happened gave and received as Penny suspected (found out on a visit one night). A spanking husband and a spanking wife was quite the zeitgeist among the 40 somethings. Equal opportunities. As Vicar spanked she advised in clear stentorian tones: “now Vicar, dear, technique to use is outside in/alternate cheeks then up and down and right to left, then left to right across”. The Vicar complied, fell into a rhythm and the music of hand on bare cheek filled the air. You all know the drill.
Thanks to the church, the Lord above, Vicars and local matriarchs. And of course the mistress of Spank herself, Aphrodite of the Beautiful Bare Acre and Bottom Bare – who else? Except in special cases. She’d even tried to have the class of spank re-formed. So girls could learn technique, if called. Winston asked Julia what the booklets were like. Julia said, "'Oh, ghastly rubbish. They're boring, really. They only have six plots, but they swap them round a bit." Even so, at my school in London there was no question of being made to take even your trousers down when you misbehaved, so the possibility that my relatives might administer a birthday spanking in public across my underpants still gave me the heebie-jeebies!
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Julia and Winston have a love affair and things inevitably go to hell for them, but I still fantasized about being Julia (hence my favorite pen name Julie) in 1984. I fantasized that if I lived in the 1984 world I would dress and undress in front of the telescreen (where the Thought Police monitor your every action) and would seduce political party members. Like Julia I would also work for Pornosec. I fantasized in detail about the cheap dirty stories I would have written for Spanking Stories. Before I could never anonymously write these stories, but now with thanks to literotica.com, I can. These stories I write will be "ghastly rubbish" complete with bad spelling and typos as they should be for a cheap booklet of spanking stories. It won't be hard for me to write ghastly as I am a lousy writer, and while I feel lousy about how I write I feel good about writing this story. This is a story I want to write, and I've written stories (such as My Blonde Step Mom Spanked Me) in the past just to make other people happy, and some of the stories that I've vomited out onto the computer screen and that were published online disgust me but this new series of stories will be different. Now it was Tasha’s turn – her long-suffering spanker was getting impatient so she should complete the task , or else. Besides, it was getting a little cold. English graveyards are never warm. So, Tasha without much further ado, unbuttoned the dungarees. The flaps unflapped, hooks were unhooked and buttons undone, until at last the trews and panties came down (not Raeger but M&S) revealing a sight of total delight – a deeper-cheeked rear of width and girth. Penny gave out a cry of delight – “what an inheritance my dearest friend – your splendid bottom bare – which in time will no doubt be passed on to generations yet unborn”. I am still humiliated and ashamed from what happened. When my parents returned home I asked my Momma if she gave Ayn permission to spank me. Momma gave me a funny look and said, "Why no, what on earth are you talking about? Did Ayn spank you?" The old man Charrington walked over next to Joe and coughed. Charrington smiled and asked, "Is there something I can help you find young man?" Last April Joe bought a blue booklet titled One Night in a Girl's School at this newsstand from a bumbling youth behind this newsstand's counter. Joe looked at the old man with his eyeglasses and gray hair and felt safe that the old man was not be a member of the Spies or The Thought Police. "Well," Joe stammered, "I was, ah, ah wondering if you may uh, have any, oh, blue booklets." I felt a pain in my stomach and said, "S-s-s-spank me? But I did nothing wrong! I don't believe Momma said that for a second! I haven't been spanked in ten years!"Kirsten and I gelled, because I was also adopted. However, we both were given the ‘rod of correction’ for our trouble. More of that another time. Well, that boyish bare which was ivory white soon started turning pink. As Mrs F spanked so she instructed, she just couldn’t help it: “now Vicar, its all about rhythm and flow, rhythm and flow, varying speed, altering pace, alternate cheeks. Raising the hand half-way – crash it down – the hand full way – wallop! – Now a flurry, now three, one on each cheek, one in the crease, a hammer hand, an open palm, now six hard to finish”. That made me even more squirmy, as I thought ‘pants’ meant underpants, and so a pants-down spanking meant a bare bottom punishment. Later, of course, I learned that ‘pants’ in the US meant trousers or jeans, so at least you could keep some semblance of modesty. yes my dear, they certainly are, a sunset glow I must say – quite satisfactory on this day of major lessons and surprises!”. In due time, this joyous fact would be shared with parish ladies as they discussed the merits and joys of bottoms bare and spanking matters, over each other’s knee as it turned out, on Wednesday nights at Ladies Group. But that was for the near future. There and then, in real time, there was some proper action due.
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It was at this point that perhaps the most embarrassing moment of all occurred – Aunt Peggy yanked my long johns up tight between my bottom cheeks. If I’d have had on normal pants it would have been a wedgie! As it was, it gave me another very squirmy feeling because the fabric was rubbing tightly against my sensitive skin in some very private places! It gave me a little flutter in my tummy, not only because of what it was a public endorsement of something I naturally assumed should always be private, but because my own birthday was coming up! Peggy and Leanne teased me about that prospect of an upcoming birthday spanking, bought the paddle (for some reason it had an English crown on it!) and told me all about the tradition of birthday spankings in the States as we drove on. So Tasha over lap, bare in the air, in turn squeezing Penny’s cheeks. She then announced in a while, as all is fair and all is fine with Penny the same touching and patting the target fair, transfixed and with a far away look. Then came the realisastion and the announcement: “Time to swap places, o chum of mine. In three words, it’s my turn! So over my lap you go.” And so it was, and so she did. Give and receive. Well, another thing which Penny noticed, was not surprising in itself but she took with utmost discretion and tact, although she was feeling very like that herself – a wetness on the lap where Tasha’s weight was bearing. Her instinct was to ignore but note – Tasha would sort that on her own. Yet, she took it as a compliment that she and Tasha could share such things – a bottom bare, the natural juices, all so healthy – that a spanking sometimes produces when done as it should be – vigorously, as Mrs F would say. Well what a tour de force. In minutes that man without his cloth had gone from white to deepest red. Tasha could hardly stop herself from blurting “hooray, well done!”. Now Vicar was a chap and it was evident that lying over the lap his nature-given ‘hood had grown somewhat. Mrs F had foreseen this and carefully placed it between her legs as she had spanked away – imagine the scene without difficulty – which of course had rubbed it. The delights of a spanking for a chap is that he can get pleasure at two ends, which has a result, put delicately. Now Mrs F knew all this – of course she did – being a woman of not just a few summers and a matriarch to boot. Which is why she firmly believed that a chap who submitted to the indignity should occasionally have his reward. She kept a flannel nearby, said whilst reviewing her own handiwork “don’t worry Vicar, I’ll mop up and all will be well with the world. She reached down and very discreetly tugged a bit more. For long experience of boys and men she knew ‘better in than out’. To ‘clear the gunwales’ was, she thought, in every respect a very healthy thing.Tasha just tingled a great deal more, and longed for her fingers to go and explore down in that place which sends you to space, but that could wait, and Mrs F’s own technique she just had to see. (A little plan formed in her head). Protected: A Naughty Little Witch…A Private Little Story for Club Members Only ~ featuring Suzette. Tasha said, “Penny, now listen we’re both hot and bothered. No need to go far. This churchyard’s large, let’s find a grave stone and you can set to…” The visits were wonderful experiences on the whole, often for two to three weeks at a time, and they were paid for through the books of my father’s business, nominally as a kind of apprenticeship, though I never actually went into the business. Peggy shouted above the din: “Our special little English boy guest, with his very cute little behind, will now be initiated into true American hospitality. You’re gonna be one of us, kiddo!” I was manoeuvred into a centre-stage position by several partygoers, including Charlotte. She whispered in my ear: “Your turn now, sweetie – enjoy! You’re gonna end up a whole lot richer!”
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One early morning fair, whilst out for a walk, Penny and Tasha strolled past the church. As oft they did when Tasha was home on leave.My arms were raised above my head, and I felt someone unzipping my jeans and tugging them down. More whoops and cheers. I had warm woollen winter ‘long johns’ on underneath, which at least were less revealing than normal pants. Then I found myself being dragged across Aunt Peggy’s lap. People were holding my hands and feet, and my nose was near the floor. I could see only shoes, mostly women’s high heels! I was very conscious that my bottom was up in the air, and though I had the long woollen pants on, I felt very exposed, vulnerable and compromised. A little tune is played, we sup our first gulp, look at the bottoms on show, and settle down for a blushing bottom tale of spanking… Now Tasha and Penny withdrew from the view, in fair old agitated state. Tasha needed to relieve herself in more than ways than one. Penny had an overwhelming desire to spank a bare. A naughty solution came to both:
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