Sylvia, part II (M/F story)

Two weeks ago, I was visited by Sylvia, the mother of my ex-girlfriend. I was surprised to learn that she had known that I often spanked her daughter during our relationship, and downright shocked when she admitted that she wanted me to do the same to her – Sylvia asked to be taken over my knee and spanked. After overcoming my bewilderment, I saw no reason to refuse her request, so I gave her the long, hard spanking she craved. Afterwards, as she stood facing the corner with her bare, red bottom on display, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time I disciplined her.

And tonight, my prediction would come true.

Sylvia had told me that she’d sat quite gingerly for a few days after visiting me, and had sported some lovely marks. However, the bruises had faded, and she was now eager for another dose of discipline. We agreed that she should visit my flat on Saturday evening.

When she arrived, she was dressed in a relatively modest shirt and a nice skirt, and there was something in her eyes that suggested she'd been looking forward to this for several days. I asked her if she wanted a cup of tea or a glass of something, but she declined, saying that she was eager to get started right away. I led her into the kitchen, where I’d placed a pen and some sheets of paper on the table. She cast me a questioning glance.

“You are going to sit down and write, Sylvia,” I explained. “You will write ‘I have been a bad girl and deserve a good, hard spanking’… let’s say two hundred times.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave me an impertinent look. “I’ve never written lines before!”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it before you’re done. Two hundred times, and you’ll get extra punishment for each error. Do I make myself clear?"

She glared at me as if she wanted to challenge me, but she must have seen from the expression on my face that this would not end well for her. With a sigh, she sat down on the kitchen chair and began writing.

I sat down behind her, where I could keep an eye on her without being observed. She worked on her task for a few minutes before she shook her hand, turning and looking over her shoulder at me. “Ouch. I’m out of practice. It’s been years since I did much writing by hand – decades, possibly.”

“Keep your eyes forward,” I instructed her. “Don’t look at me.”

She pouted, but obeyed. “You know, I came here hoping for a sore bottom, not a sore hand.”

I grinned at the petulant tone in her voice. “Don’t worry – you’ll get that as well.”
She continued working for some time before putting the pen down. “I’m finished, sir.”

I glanced at the papers, which seemed acceptable. Her handwriting was terrible, but she seemed to have done as instructed. “Good. Stand up.” I led her over to the wall, where I pulled a coin from my pocket. “You will hold this coin to the wall with your nose until I tell you otherwise. If it drops, you touch it with your hands, or you speak without being spoken to, you will get ten strokes with my belt, before your corner time starts from the beginning. Is that clear?”

She blushed. “Yes, sir.” I held up the coin, and she dutifully pressed her nose to it, holding it against the wall.

“Hands behind your back,” I instructed, and she obeyed. When I lifted her skirt and tucked it into the waistband, she let out a surprised gasp, but managed to avoid protesting. “I want you to stand here with your bottom on display and think about the spanking you will get once your corner time is over,” I told her as I slowly pulled her panties down and gave her bottom a not-so-gentle pat. “Got that?”

“Yes, sir.” The coin almost fell as she spoke, and she pressed her nose even harder against the wall. I chuckled – it was quite an entertaining sight.

I sat down and had a look at the lines she’d written, keeping one eye on the bare-bottomed miscreant in the corner. As I have said, her handwriting was atrocious, and it was clear she was telling the truth about not being used to writing by hand. However, it was readable, and she’d done as instructed; there were no errors that I could spot, and she had the correct number of lines.

I went through the list again, just in case there was something I had missed. Once I was satisfied there wasn’t, I put the sheets down, but I continued watching her for a few minutes. There was something about being left half-undressed on display in the corner that put a woman in the right state of mind for discipline. I could see goosebumps forming on her bottom, and wondered if it was all anticipation or if she was feeling chilly. Well, if she was cold, I had a cure for that.

I rose, walking over to her. She trembled slightly as I approached, but said nothing. I lifted my hand, removing the coin. “Well done, Sylvia,” I complimented her. “Good girl.” She grinned at my compliments, and even more when I told her it was time to come out of the corner and go over my knee. It was finally time for her spanking.

I sat down in the chair, patting my lap. She eagerly bent over, scooting forward so that her bottom was raised and her toes barely touched the ground. I knew she would kick fiercely once the sting became too much. I stroked her bottom gently, and she clenched and unclenched her cheeks as she waited for me to begin. “Ask me for a spanking, Sylvia.”

She groaned in frustration, eager to finally get started, but managed to make her voice demure. “I have been very, very naughty, sir. Please give me a good, hard spanking so that I learn my lesson.” I smiled; I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time Sylvia had been told to ask for punishment.

I lifted my hand and started to spank her. The last time she went over my knee, Sylvia had been surprised at how hard I could spank with just my hand, and I had no intention of being any gentler with her today. I slapped hard and fast, moving from cheek to cheek. Her backside flattened under my palm, before bouncing up to meet the next smack. It was a very enjoyable sight.

As the sting began to grow, Sylvia gasped, squirming a little over my lap. From what she told me, Sylvia had been spanked many, many times, but not recently, and she was out of practice. Despite the pain, however, there was a grin on her face; I knew how much she’d missed being bent over someone’s lap and thrashed.

The loud smacks rang out in the quiet room, followed by the occasional hiss from the bare-bottomed brat. “Ouch! You really know how to toast a lady’s cheeks, sir.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Sylvia,” I said as I continued to warm her bottom.

Gradually, her pale cheeks turned pink, and there was just a hint of redness when I stopped spanking her. Sylvia took a deep breath, wincing a little at the sting, but she didn’t try to get up; she knew enough about me to suspect that I was far from done. And she was right.

Two weeks ago, Sylvia had thoughtfully provided me with a well-used wooden hairbrush that I could use to spank her. I had been impressed with the implement and its effect on her, but when I started looking, I ended up buying something else – a small wooden paddle, a little thicker than the brush, but with holes that could supposedly deliver quite a sting. I reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out my new purchase. When I tapped the implement against her warm bottom, Sylvia whimpered a little in anticipation, and her backside trembled a little.

When I lifted the paddle and slammed it down on her quivering buttocks, Sylvia let out a howl that would shame a banshee. She kicked her legs and squirmed, but I wrapped one leg around hers and one arm around her waist, holding her in place. She was not going anywhere until her bottom was scarlet. I grinned as she squealed and squirmed with every sound smack. This paddle seemed to be even more effective than I had hoped.

“Will you be a good girl, Sylvia?” I said.

“Ow! Yes, sir! I’ll b-behave, I promise! Owie! That hurts!”

It took only a few minutes of hard, non-stop paddling for her to break down. She lay limply across my lap, sobbing her heart out. I gave her a few more smacks to make sure, before placing the paddle down on the table. I began to rub her bottom soothingly, whispering that she had been very brave and had taken her punishment well, and that it was all over now.

Since she had already faced the corner today, and she hadn’t actually done anything wrong, I decided not to make her do it again. As such, she was allowed to rub her bottom the moment I let her up. It was quite funny watching her doing her little brat war dance, jumping from foot to foot as she tried to rub the sting away. That sight will never stop being entertaining.

Then, once I’d dried her tears and pulled her panties back up, we sat down in the living room for a cup of tea and a chat. It took quite a few pillows before Sylvia was willing to sit down rather than stand.