Bare Bottom Spankings: Twelve Bare Bottoms

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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. Sure enough a ringing instruction rang out, clear as a bell, which was their cue to resume their viewing position: “right, Vicar, I think you’ve covered the terrain. Now we change places and I show you how it’s done. Only fair when bottoms are bare that givers are also receivers”. The spit in her mouth had gone, her knees went weak as she saw Mummy swell before her taking a deep breath. Her eyebrow lifted and vanished beneath her fringe. She sat down, and opened the envelope.

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Now she had a vehicle for her pride. She had always been proud of her daughter, a bright intelligent daughter. Not many from the village had got into Grammer School in recent years. She knew that a lot of her peers in the W.I. Would be saying that very night…”I hear Karen got into Grammer school, she deserves it, her Mummy will be so proud.”Suzette on Protected: A Naughty Little Witch…A Private Little Story for Club Members Only ~ featuring Suzette. The Vicar at Saint Hugh’s Church used her as an example many times. “If you are not sure what to do, go and see her, she’ll have probably done it before, she’s marvellous!”

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Almost a minute passed, but it felt longer. Karen looked at her beautiful Mummy, the rounded body looked so cosy and even at this moment strangely comforting, her Mummy bear almost. She saw her Mummy looking at her bush, her hips, she could almost read the thoughts in her head…”My my, my little girl is a girl no more.” There is always a rather rowdy, ribald crowd, with plump bare bottomed lasses on their knees giggling. The majority are plump older women, with ‘their girl’. We go and sit, she is about to start a tale….not verse, not poetry, but something akin to Chaucer, and his Canterbury tales. It was then that the recent thought of the normality beyond the house returned, and Mummy noticed the bedroom window open. It was a secret no more, the sound of this spanking would travel! In a strange way it encouraged Mummy. Who stopped. And what a sight met their eyes. Vicar sat, trousers at knees, his own bare cheeks upon the chair wood (Tasha nodded in approval). Across his lap lay a bottom bare of sizable girth, and rounded cheek being turned white to pink with vigour and vim. In short he was giving it what for with a good deal of welly thrown in. But who was the owner of those bare acres? She could be heard, but face not seen.

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At first, Penny thought, it could be Laywoman Lawson, known as Michelle – a very similar size and shape, but no, the voice was not quite right to be her. To say the least, the meal was a slow somber affair. Mummy had given her a small portion, knowing that her tummy would be in knots. Soon the table was cleared, and the pots washed. Once they were all put away, Mummy spoke. “Up you go.”Karen climbed the curved oak stair case slowly, her head down. She reached the landing and sulkily walked to her door. In she went and shut the door behind her, resting against it. She cried, she had let her Mummy down, she had been naughty girl. After all her praise, she was now a naughty girl, about to get a bare bottom spanking The Bexhill School series of books follows the fortunes (and misfortunes) of two young ladies as they progress through their time at an imaginary girls' school in the late 1950s, when corporal punishment was still a mainstay of discipline. They, their classmates, and even some of the staff are regularly on the receiving end of spankings from implements ranging from the hand to the Dragon cane and even the birch. The shop assistant was indeed a W.I. member, and knew the women in the village. Mummy knew that it would soon be common knowledge that she was now armed. 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?

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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…

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The door handle slipped in her sweaty palm, the door made a noise far too loud. Mummy sounded so joyous as she shouted, “Hello dear, had a good day? Come and give Mummy a hug, I need one today.” Except in special cases. She’d even tried to have the class of spank re-formed. So girls could learn technique, if called. Penny had a half-hearted attempt at dissuading them both: “Natasha, its wrong to take a peak at a private meeting, bottoms bare or not. If you insist, I’ll spank your bare to kingdom come…”