Scenes of Domestic Discipline: Book 2

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Scenes of Domestic Discipline: Book 2 Page 2

by Susan Thomas


  Her father sat down on her bed and gestured for her to stand beside him. "Well, come along, Alison, you know what comes next."

  "Oh no daddy, you can't be serious. Please don't make me do that. Can't you just spank me and have done with it?"

  Again it was her mother who answered in her deceptively soft and gentle voice. "No, Alison, it is terribly important you really learn your lesson this time. You're not a teenager now."

  Alison's eyes began to well up with tears. She hated this, truly hated it, but they seemed determined and to challenge this now was so huge that she didn't feel able to do it. In addition, she had known from the minute she had begun to raise her voice to Miss Ford that she was in the wrong. She took hold of her pyjama bottoms and slipped them right down to her ankles and then stood back upright again, totally exposed and terribly embarrassed.

  "Well come on, Alison, delay won't help. Tell us why you deserve this spanking."

  It was the standing there naked from the waist down explaining to her parents who already knew perfectly well why she was being spanked that she found so hard. Not that her daddy stared at her private parts, it was just the feeling he could. He'd introduced this years ago after he went to a symposium for police officers in Little Rock, USA. There he'd met with several officers from southern states who had introduced him to some of their domestic disciplinary methods. He had thought them good but Alison hadn't liked them one bit.

  She stammered out the reasons why she deserved to be spanked, and then he pulled her down and over his lap, taking a firm grip on her. It was going to be a good spanking, she knew, because it always was. The only question was how long. When she was young it had been brief with no more than a dozen smacks of his hand, but gradually as the years passed it had got longer.

  He began without a word with a good firm smack of his hand to her bottom. It made her jump, landing as it did on an already sore bottom. The smacks were firm, hard, fast and without pause as you would expect from a strong, fit disciplinarian. She tried, as she always did, to take her punishment bravely but the smacks just set her on fire all over again. She squirmed, making constant 'ow' and 'ouch' sounds and didn't know what to do with her hands which supported her. First one would come up to her face then another. She stretched and moved her legs and feet but the spanking simply continued at the same fast pace until she felt she could not take any more.

  "Daddy, please this is enough, you've punished me enough, Daddy. Stop please."

  Her father didn't stop. He just kept on spanking, and Alison's legs began to kick and she could no longer see clearly because of the tears caused by the terrible fiery heat building up.

  "Daddy, please no more. I'm really sorry about what happened, honestly."

  Her mother noted that he had now been spanking Alison for a good four minutes which she reckoned was longer than usual, but still her husband did not stop. His hand continued its steady firm spanking, and now Alison began to kick and thrash around in earnest, but her dad simply crossed one leg firmly over hers and began again.

  Alison was at the end of her tether. Her bottom had only earlier that day been soundly strapped and now this lengthy hard spanking. She could take no more. She began to kick and thrash, pleading with him to stop but he simply carried on.

  "Daddy, no more, no more."

  That shrill cry was ignored and suddenly Alison screamed out so loud it frightened her mother. "Stop, stop I can't take it."

  Her father stopped and Alison, released, slid down to the floor with her head on his lap, her hands clutching at her bottom and sobbing uncontrollably. It took some considerable time to calm her down, and both parents could see by the state of her bottom that her punishment had been a thorough one.

  Her mother tentatively raised the next stage. "Corner time?"

  "No, no, no I won't do it. Enough is enough. I won't go in the corner."

  Corner time after the reinforcement spanking had also been learnt from his American colleagues (some of them still good friends) and at first had been brief indeed, perhaps no more than a minute. Later, it had been extended until the last time had been a full thirty minutes. She hated the humiliation and the inability to do anything about her sore bottom.

  Her daddy raised one eyebrow, a look that had always calmed even teenage rebellion for reasons none of them understood.

  "No, Daddy please." Alison moderated her vehemence. "Please don't make me. Haven't I had enough?"

  "Have you, Alison? Have you really understood what the lesson is?"

  "Daddy, you strapped me harder than you ever have before and then spanked me harder than ever. I've got the message."

  "Then prove it by willingly doing your corner time. I'll make a concession to your age by accepting a token five minutes. That is the second concession today."

  Alison's rebellion finished as quickly as it began. She simply walked across to the corner (her pyjama bottoms having long ago fled her ankles and ended up some distance from the bed), placed her hands on her head and, with the occasional snivel, served her time out.

  Now that really was the end of her bad day. Surely tomorrow would be better.

  Alison's Partnership

  There is no peace among equals because equality doesn't exist in this universe. Either one prevails and the other follows, or both negotiate their differences and birth a greater partnership. Harold J Duarte-Bernhardt.

  Alison woke up early, determined that this day would be better than yesterday. Yesterday had been the day from hell in which she had shouted and sworn at her head teacher, Miss Ford, because she was bullying two young girls. Because of it she had been soundly strapped by her daddy, and then spanked again at bedtime. It was her first punishment in years as she had been away at college for four years. She'd also realised that her relationship with her college boyfriend was going nowhere, so sitting on a sore bottom (that was now bruised) she wrote a lovely letter (a proper letter not a text or email as she felt she owed him that) breaking it off, and hoping they would always be friends. She suspected he would be relieved.

  At school, she found her mentor and her union rep together and explained she wanted to make a complaint about Miss Ford. She found they were already ahead of her and were putting together a long list of complaints from others to take to the County Council. Then she went to tackle the same set for English that had given her trouble the day before. She went in with a different and much tougher approach which worked, and she felt better afterwards. The day progressed in a much better fashion than the previous day and, it being Friday, she stayed behind after the students had gone to get all her work finished so she had a free weekend for once.

  It was getting on for seven thirty when the senior teacher and her mentor, a woman frequently the victim of Miss Ford, came in. "Are you nearly done, Alison?"

  "Yes, just finishing up now. I'm trying to carve some free time for this weekend so I can relax."

  "Well, we go swimming at our club on Saturday morning and have lunch afterwards in the members' bar. Would you like to join us or are we perhaps too old for you?"

  Alison knew their club and the fabulous pool it boasted and hadn't been swimming in an age. She also recognised that they were trying to make it up to her that she had fallen foul of Miss Ford, so accepted. When they all met up at the club they found that hardly anyone was in and they would have the pool to themselves. In the changing room there were no cubicles, so it was very much like a school changing room but smarter. Alison gave no thought to her clearly bruised bottom but just began stripping off to put on her costume.

  There was a gasp from her mentor followed by her saying, "Alison, whatever happened to you?"

  The senior teacher looked. "Heavens, Miss Ford told a few of us on the senior management team that your father used corporal punishment on you but I thought she was just being a bitch as usual."

  Alison went very red and was appalled at the thought that Miss Ford was saying things like that, but there was little point in denying what was extremely ob
vious, so she simply turned and let them have a good look.

  "Daddy gave me the strap and later on spanked me because I did such a stupid thing in tackling Miss Ford the way I did. It hasn't happened for a long time, he doesn't make a habit of it. Obviously, while I was away at university it couldn't happen but now I chose to live at home so it is back on the menu. Daddy was right, I was in the wrong so I deserved it. I just wish you two hadn't seen it."

  The senior teacher was forthright. "I have to say I agree with your father. I think it a shame more parents don't take a tough stance over discipline. Heaven knows half of our students need a much firmer hand at home. It is to your credit, Alison, that you took it and accept it was deserved. Well done. As for Miss Ford... well just don't worry I have decided it is time for me to fight back too. Between all of us we'll stop her."

  Alison enjoyed her swimming, though the arrival of a family made her self-conscious, and when she climbed out to go to the steam room she saw one of the kids, a boy of about ten, staring at her bottom. She hurried to the steam room.

  Over lunch, her mentor too agreed that her father's attitude to discipline was acceptable, especially if Alison herself accepted it. However, it caused Alison to think hard and when she got home she asked her parents for a serious talk.

  "First off, I accept I was on the wrong with Miss Ford and the strapping I got was well deserved. I chose to come home to live, and you have been good enough to let me, and I accept Daddy's right to punish me if I do something seriously wrong. I also trust Daddy not to do it for something silly."

  "Thank you, Alison."

  "However, I am an adult and I don't accept that at my age a reinforcement spanking is needed. If I accept a strapping at my age then I understand the lesson and don't need another, so with deep respect I refuse to take any more."

  Her mother looked as if she was about to argue but her father spoke up. "Very well, Alison, I accept your position, but perhaps you'll accept this from me. Since you've been at home again your conduct has not always been satisfactory, but I have balked at strapping you as it seemed too extreme. I would like to have the option of simply spanking you sometimes and not using the strap, or if it is a little more serious using my old leather slipper. I didn't use simple spanking before because, of course, it was always done at bedtime."

  Alison wasn't entirely sure about this but felt agreeing might be politic to keep her mother in check. She then went on with her next point. "I am also unhappy about corner time. It seems a waste of time given my earlier point. If I accept punishment at my age then I have done all the reflection I need, it's job done. While we are at it, if you are going to spank me I absolutely refuse to explain why I am getting spanked while my knickers are around my ankles. It is utterly humiliating and if you don't concede - well, I refuse and you'll have to ask me to leave home."

  Again her mother wanted to argue this point but her father conceded the knickers down while she explained what she had done wrong; however he came back on corner time.

  "Actually it does serve a useful purpose. It gives you a calming down period to get over the whole process of being punished and to think about why. What do you say to us keeping it to what we did last night, a straight five minute job?"

  Alison agreed and in the end her mother did too and all the new rules were put into force with no expectation of being used soon. Alison warned her parents that she wouldn't be home until the early hours as she was going out with old school friends, and did indeed stagger in at three in the morning more than a little worse for wear. She flung herself into bed without disturbing her parents and was still up in the morning for church with her grandparents with no sign of a hangover.

  Once a month the three of them attended her grandparents' rather strict church and then brought them home for a Sunday lunch. Alison hated going to the cold bare church with its particular ways but did so out of a feeling of love for them. She put on her only dress, this being the expected outfit for a woman, and put a headscarf on, as that or a hat, was another expectation. At this point there was no sign of the row that was actually brewing in this situation.

  Alison and her mother cooked lunch while her grandmother supervised which is the only way to look at it. It irritated Alison but her mother took no notice, just chatted on. The two men went out into the garden and drank beer. They were an old-fashioned family. There was still no sign of the row that was to come.

  It was over lunch that the row began to bubble. Her mother launched into a long and detailed account of Alison's behaviour with Miss Ford, and how she had shouted at and sworn at the woman. Her grandparents were particularly upset by the swearing, and looked at her disapprovingly. Alison tried to stop her mother, but, no, she just wouldn't stop. She carried on with how this was witnessed creating a lot of gossip (more discussion about why her grandparents hadn't heard it) and how they'd come to learn of it. Alison tried again to shut her mother up but to no avail. Finally, her mother outlined in some detail, Alison's strapping from her dad (nods of sad approval from her grandparents) and her bedtime spanking (more nods of sad approval). Alison felt totally and utterly humiliated. By the time her grandparents had finished talking to all their friends and neighbours, and taking into account all those who already seemed to know, there would be few left in town who didn't know.

  Later, she drove her grandparents home in her car and was lectured all the way on the use of the tongue and an exhortation to read the Epistle of James Chapter 3, "Any Bible will do, Alison, even the new translations."

  Alison seethed on the way home. She had never had the easiest of relationships with her mother but this she felt was the final straw, and she would not put up with it. How dare her mother sit there and embarrass her like that, which of course resulted in that long lecture from her grandparents. She vowed never even to look at that bloody epistle of James.

  She started on her mother the moment she walked in the door. It was unfortunate that she had a fiery temper because her mother was most disinclined to be told off by her daughter. It was not an edifying spectacle; in many ways it was a repeat of Alison's performance with Miss Ford but with the extra edge of a personal parental relationship. Let's be honest, Alison went too far - she shouted, swore and used quite unnecessary invective. A calm explanation of her objections would have been far better.

  Her father walked into the middle of this row. His years of police work had not been for nothing. Dealing with arguments is the bread and butter of police work whatever the best seller writers might want you to believe. It took him very little time to stop the row and only a little more to establish that Alison had really gone far too far. Her language also shocked him as he had thought his daughter knew better than that.

  "Alison, I am shocked and surprised. I will not have you speak to your mother in that way, whatever the rights and wrongs of the cause. I really don't feel I can strap you again so soon after the last one but I think the slipper will do. Go to my study and we'll do it now."

  Alison's temper flared like lit matches, and then went out again as quickly. She now felt drained and ashamed. She knew she was in the wrong and that a spanking was justified but suddenly she realised that she was wearing the dress for church. The spanking position would leave it in a mess she felt, but to take it and her knickers off would leave her virtually naked.

  "Dad, I'm wearing a dress, I don't want it ruined going over your knee and I really don't want to just take it off as I'd just be in my bra. I'd like to do something about that."

  "Very well, go upstairs and change into something more suitable, I'll be up in ten minutes and we'll do it there."

  Alison quickly took off her dress, hung it up, and put on a modest top, She then got out a pair of jeans and sat in her knickers on the bed, waiting. Not for the first time, she wondered at herself and why she accepted these punishments, and then her parents walked in. Her father was carrying one of his old leather slippers, rarely worn. They were hand made with a thickish sole and, without ever having been span
ked with it, she knew it would sting horribly.

  He went and sat down on the bed and without a word she stood, pulled her knickers down and placed herself over his lap. He still said nothing about how long he would spank her for but she guessed it wouldn't be a quick one. Her mother remained standing and could see her daughter's bottom all too clearly. It was still bruised from Thursday's strapping and later spanking. True, it was all fading and was yellow and purple now, but spanking her over those would be unpleasant for her. Her mother believed in spanking and that it was good for Alison but she didn't really like seeing her hurt. It was a problem for her but it was her duty, so she steeled herself to watch the spanking.

  The first smack of the slipper across Alison's bottom not only produced a strangely different sound to the hand but sent her bottom rippling in a different way. Alison yelped loudly and a large red mark appeared to overlay the bruising. Her mother noted that he spanked very differently from her father. When she had been spanked, it had been slow with ponderous lectures and Bible references thrown in. This spanking was fast and furious with no lectures. The spanking was the lecture and it said quite clearly, as it set the bottom dancing, "No more being rude to your mother, young lady."

  As Alison's bottom danced, she yelped and cried with increasing vigour, and her bottom changed colour once again. Her mother stood thinking back to all her own punishments and never once did it cross her mind that at twenty three, Alison was really far too old to be treated in this way. To her it was how a daughter should be brought up, and she really did not understand how the times had changed.

 

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