Bare Bottomed at Birchwell by Roger Benson (Novella 3)
Novella and Illustrations by Roger Benson, 1962
With selected drawings by Miss Fran and coloring by StoneKnight
Originally Published by Bared Affair Publications
Edited by Mrs. Angie Heart
Foreword
Mrs. Angie Heart, Editrix-in-Chief of the renowned Bared Affair Magazine has done it again! We were thrilled in 2004 when she released Mr. Roger Benson’s long out of print novella, Delinquent Damsels in Distress! We were delighted when she followed this literary coup with the 2005 release of Mr. Benson’s Luscious Lovelies Learn Their Lessons! Now she has completed the trilogy with what many would regard as Roger Benson’s magnum opus: Bare Bottomed at Birchwell!
As a (now retired) internationally famous syndicated columnist and writer on domestic and judicial discipline matters, I of course have long been familiar with Mr. Benson’s peerless prose and ingenious illustrations. What a pleasure to see them once again in print for the delectation of later generations!
It’s 1962 and lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy, a central figure in the earlier works is joined in Bare Bottomed at Birchwell by pretty Patsy Maidenly, an adorable and exceptionally shapely 19 year old from the fine state of Indiana. Both girls have been consigned, by their strict but loving parents, to a very special “finishing school” located on an imposing estate located in Sussex, England.
Operated by Miss Agatha Forsythe Webster, O.B.E. and her equally discipline-minded assistant Miss Frobisher, “The Polite Society Preparation Programme” is designed to produce “properly behaved young ladies” and does not shrink from the application of strict discipline to achieve that laudable objective!
Needless to say, Miss Lorna Jane and Miss Patsy learn a great deal about polite society and also learn that English disciplinary techniques are both unique and highly effective! Enthusiasts for the genre are, to put it mildly, in for a treat!
Superby illustrated and written with knowledgeable sophistication, Bare Bottomed at Birchwell confirms for all time the depth of Mr. Roger Benson’s commanding talent!
Billy Hackmore, Sr., January 2007
Chapter 1: Many Happy Returns
As we learned from the last issue of this magazine, in just two months’ time lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy would turn twenty and complete her second year of study at the all girls Maydith College. We also learned that Lorna Jane’s strict but loving mother, Mrs. Welworthy, had decided that her darling daughter would benefit from a six month sojourn in Merrie England where Lorna Jane’s maiden aunt Agatha Webster – a discipline-minded woman of quality – would instruct the girl in the ways of polite society that every well brought up young lady must know. As it happens, dear Lorna Jane had visited her strict Aunty when she was just 18 and had some vivid disciplinary memories that made her ripely curvaceous body tremble with trepidation!
The last two months before her departure were busy ones for Lorna Jane. She managed to complete her second year of study with a solid “B” average which, happily for her, precluded the necessity of a motivational session with her mother and her mother’s “dear old friend,” Mr. Hairbrush. Alas, poor Lorna Jane was not fortunate enough to escape entirely the attentions of her mother’s friend. In a nervous tizzy over a final exam, the girl completely forgot to run an important errand for her mother which entailed picking up certain supplies for a special Bridge Club event Mrs. Welworthy was hosting at her lovely home.
A kindly woman, Mrs. Welworthy permitted Lorna Jane to finish her exam before the ultimate reckoning which, as it happened, was on a Friday afternoon. A tearful Lorna Jane, spike heels clicking, found herself walking down the long hallway to the Spanking Room while her mother and Mr. Hairbrush followed. Above the waist, Lorna Jane wore a tight, short sleeved sweater and bra. Below the waist, she was deliciously bare except for an off white elastic garter belt, tautly suspendered sheer tan nylon hose and, of course, her glossy black patent pumps.
After a sound spanking, a sobbing and very red bottomed Lorna Jane was required to put on a light raincoat whereupon her mother ushered the girl into the family sedan and proceeded to drive over to Mrs. Evelyn Goddard’s house. Mrs. Goddard greeted Mrs. Welworthy and her daughter warmly. A scarlet faced Lorna Jane blinked back fresh tears as her coat was taken from her.
“Walk around in a wide circle, dear,” Mrs. Welworthy commanded. “Keep your hands on top of your head and take tiny little steps!”
Tears dripped from Lorna Jane’s quivering chin as she minced around the elegantly appointed living room, her prettily reddened buttocks jiggling and swaying delightfully.
“Excellent brush work, Iona, dear,” Mrs. Goddard observed in a genial tone, her eyes glued to Lorna Jane’s girlishly plump posterior portions.
“You are too kind, Evelyn, dear,” Mrs. Welworthy responded warmly. “But I fear that Lorna Jane’s behavioral misdemeanour warrants more correction than a simple session with Mr. Hairbrush. I was thinking of that special third floor bathroom you have…”
Lorna Jane’s gasp of fear was plainly audible. Suddenly, her rounded, nyloned knees felt very watery and her plump little bumhole spasmed with dread.
“But of course, Iona,” Evelyn Goddard responded cheerfully. “It’s been far too long since Lorna Jane spent some time with her little playmates, Mr. Nozzle and Mr. Plug!”
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Welworthy watched with avid interest as Mrs. Goddard worked on her darling daughter. Lying face down on the hard, narrow enema table, Lorna Jane cried softly and emitted the most delightful gasps and whimpers throughout the lengthy procedure. As Mrs. Welworthy watched, she wondered to herself who she would rather be in the circumstances: Mrs. Goddard, Lorna Jane, or Mr. Nozzle himself!
A Girdled Girl
Mrs. Welworthy arranged a thoroughly delightful birthday party for dear Lorna Jane. Mrs. Goddard was invited as was Lorna Jane’s adoring boyfriend, Rod Long. Kathy Ann and her swain, Lance Thicker, were also in attendance. Lorna Jane received many lovely presents for which she was deeply grateful. Then, it was almost time to cut the cake!
But first, as Mrs. Welworthy reminded her radiant daughter, there was the little matter of the traditional birthday spanking! A scarlet-faced Lorna Jane went over her mother’s oh-so-capable knee and the full pink skirt of her pretty party frock was turned up, revealing skimpy pink nylon panties and the darker tops of her taughtly suspendered sheer nylon hose – not to mention the succulent bare thigh flesh above!
Mrs. Welworthy allowed the girl to retain her panties while slowly and crisply administering 23 spanks: one for each year of the girl’s age, one to grow on, one for good luck, and one for good measure! Lorna Jane squealed very appealingly during the delightful ritual, kicking her glossy white patent spike heeled pumps in what the French have called “the dance of the punished bottom”! Then, a red-faced but only slightly tearful Lorna Jane squirmed on her chair as she cut the cake and make her wish. “Ohhhhh, g-golly,” she thought to herself. “I hope Aunty Agatha isn’t t-too strict with little meeee!”
Since Lorna Jane was required to attend church on Sundays, she was always expected to wear a girdle on that day. Otherwise, the girl’s sheer nylon hosiery was tautly suspendered by an off-white elastic garter belt or, sometimes on date nights, a naughty black elastic garter belt. The latter garment, in particular, seemed to have a particularly pronounced effect on Rod Long’s libido and, in fact, Lorna Jane invariably retained her stockings and garter belt during her intimate sessions with her adoring boyfriend.
As Lorna Jane’s departure date for Merrie England rapidly approached, her mother wished to ensure that her darling daughter made the proper impression on Aunt Agatha as “a properly brought up young lady” which meant, among other things, that Lorna Jane would now be required to wear a girdle all the time!
The hapless girl was escorted by her mother to the shop of Miss Ludmilla Tightly, a middle-aged purveyor of bras, girdles and other necessities for properly brought up young misses.
When Lorna Jane’s mother telephoned Miss Tightly to make an appointment, the good woman sagely counseled: “I look forward to seeing you and your daughter, Mrs. Welworthy. Do make sure the girl wears her highest spike heeled pumps for they are the ultimate test of the ability of a properly designed girdle to control unsavory jiggling.”
All too soon, a hotly blushing Lorna Jane found herself parading around in a back room of Miss Tightly’s shop. Apart from her bra and panties, the girl wore a snug, off-white, open-bottomed girdle that failed to cover the terminal curves of her girlishly plump buttocks. Tautly suspendered sheer tan nylon hose and glossy black patent leather pumps with four and a quarter inch spike heels completed her ensemble.
Miss Tightly beamed approvingly. “As you can see, Mrs. Welworthy, a pleasing feminine sway but no improper jiggling of – ah, the gluteal portions.” Mrs. Welworthy and her daughter left the shop with five girdles: three in off-white, one in pale beige, and one in a subdued shade of pink.
The girdles were a terrible trial for poor Lorna Jane. They constantly rode up in back, revealing a succulent bow shaped slice of girlflesh. In addition, her little panties had a disconcerting tendency to ride up under her girdle, wedging uncomfortably in her deep gluteal crevice. And when she took the restraining garment off before bed, there were invariably red welts around her shapely waist, not to mention the lower curves of her ripely moulded buttocks!
Since being caught without a girdle would mean the strictest of maternal punishments, Lorna Jane did not dare to disobey and even wore one of the horrid garments on her very last date – before her departure for Merrie England – with her darling boyfriend, Rod Long. Notwithstanding her girdled condition, the date was a rather passionate affair. Lorna Jane knew how much she would miss Rod and wanted to make sure that he remained true to her during her absence. Accordingly, the naughty girl used her lovely mouth in a way she had only done once before in her young life – during her never-to-be-forgotten Judicial Review in Learned Judge Pimm-Lansing’s Privy Chambers! Rod, needless to say, experienced a level of ecstasy he had never imagined possible and babbled promises of undying love and devotion – words Lorna Jane very much wanted to hear!
Less than a week later, Lorna Jane was crossing the Atlantic on the flagship Empress of Britain. At a less than opportune moment, a frisky breeze came up from the Atlantic and provided ship goers an appealing view of dear Lorna Jane’s girdle. Her teary and mournful expression was a reflection of a quite understandable attack of homesickness. The expression of young Nigel Nubbins, Junior Assistant Radio Operator on the great liner, was rather different as he gazed at Lorna Jane from a concealed corner. Decorum forbids description of young Nigel’s unsavory phantasies and, we are pleased to report, they remained just that as far as lovely Lorna Jane was concerned!
Pretty Patsy’s Pulchritude
Patricia Jean Maidenly (known as Patsy) was one of the loveliest nineteen-year-olds in the fine state of Indiana. It wasn’t just her beautifully natural blonde hair and adorable blue eyes, Patsy stood five foot six and one half inches in her stocking feet and the tale the tape measure told was 37-25-38. A shapely miss indeed!
After graduating from high school (a solid “B” average and popular with all the other students), Patsy enrolled in first year studies at the all girls Cedarbrook College, located in a prosperous suburb of Indianapolis. Patsy’s father, Horace Maidenly, was a highly successful businessman and wisely left matters pertaining to the domestic discipline of his only child to Patsy’s strict but loving mother, Helen Maidenly.
Mrs. Maidenly was a pillar of the community, involved in many good works and also active as Vice President of the Claremont Bridge Club. Indeed, it was through her avid interest in bridge that Helen Maidenly had met Iona Welworthy, Lorna Jane’s mother and, through that, learned of Miss Agatha Webster’s great interest and expertise in helping young ladies become paragons of perfection in polite society.
As chance would have it, it was in April 1962 that Helen Maidenly made contact with Agatha Webster and it was soon arranged that pretty Patsy – just like lovely Lorna Jane – would travel to Merrie England in June for a six month stay in Miss Webster’s care. And so, dear reader, it was destined that Patsy and Lorna Jane were to meet and share a fascinating array of quite unforgettable experiences!
Patricia Jean Maidenly was a well-mannered and considerate girl, thanks to her mother’s strict but loving attention to the fine details of bringing up her daughter including, of course, diligent attention to domestic discipline when needed! For despite her many fine attributes, pretty Patsy – like all teener girls – was capable of being naughty and thoughtless from time to time.
And then it was time for a visit to the Execution Chamber that is mother’s bedroom and a sound, over-the-knee, bare bottom hairbrushing. No matter whether Patsy was a sixteen-year-old bobby soxer or a more mature girl wearing sheer nylon stockings and spike heels, she would never graduate from the tender mercies of mother’s hairbrush!
Mrs. Maidenly took pride in her daughter and felt that her discipline-minded ways had played an important part in shaping the girl’s excellent character and behavior. But Mrs. Maidenly also wisely recognized that young girls develop best when they undergo a range of experiences and that a sojourn in Merrie England under Miss Webster’s wise (if strict!) tutelage would be greatly to Patsy’s long term good.
Patsy, needless to say, was apprehensive about the prospect, with just cause, it turns out! But she wisely realized that any failure to be totally obedient would result in her standing before her mother – bare from the waist down except for her garter belt, sheer nylon stockings and spike-heeled pumps – receiving a good talking to as a prelude to a lengthy and painful over-the-knee hairbrushing on her girlishly plump bare bottom!
Chapter 2: Aunty Agatha’s Expectations
As we saw from the last issue of Bared Affair, twenty-year-old Lorna Jane Wellworthy and nineteen-year-old Patrica Jean (“Patsy”) Maidenly were consigned by their strict but loving mothers to spend six months, commencing in June 1962, in Merrie England under the supervision of Miss Agatha Webster, Lorna Jane’s maiden aunt. A woman of quality, Miss Webster took a considerable interest in training young girls so they would be paragons of perfection in polite society.
Both girls arrived in Merrie England within 48 hours of one another and soon found themselves at Miss Webster’s Sussex estate. Comprising some 25 rooms, stately Birchwell Manor was set on 30 acres of manicured landscape. Needless to say, such a large establishment required extensive staff, and Miss Webster was well supplied in that regard having a chauffeur, a groundsman, a butler and cook, and two attractive (and exceptionally submissive) nineteen-year-old maids! In addition, Miss Webster had a personal assistant – a tall, austere woman in her middle years, known only as “Miss Frobisher” and who was treated with the greatest respect by all the other members of Miss Webster’s staff.
Nearly 30 years earlier, when Miss Webster was in her very early twenties, she had taken a “working year” in Merrie England and had secured office employment with a major newspaper. She was a striking and talented young woman and it is perhaps not surprising that she came to the attention of one of Fleet Street’s most successful “press barons” – an older man of great wealth and power. Romance blossomed between the couple and wedding bells were planned. Alas, just four weeks before the nuptials, Agatha Webster’s intended perished in an aeroplane crash over the Andes. The reading of his will revealed that he has left his bride-to-be his country estate – Birchwell, a stylish flat in Belgravia, a substantial sum of capital, and a generous annual allowance.
Miss Webster remained in Merrie England and, in time, recovered from her loss and established herself as a gracious hostess in both country and city social circles. When the dark clouds of war gathered in 1939, she could have easily remained at her country estate, insulated from the ravages of the Luftwaffe. Instead, she went to London, volunteered as an ambulance driver, and performed heroic service during the blitz – service for which she was awarded the highest honors of The Knights of St. John.
After the war, with Merrie England’s economic and physical recovery, Miss Webster returned to her social whirl and once again rapidly established herself as a distinguished hostess and confidante to the well-born and powerful.
The Girls’ Bare-Bottom Reminiscences
Although both Lorna Jane and Patsy had been raised in lovely homes located in the most prosperous suburbs of their respective communities, neither girl had ever experienced anything like Birchwell in their young lives! The sheer scale of the residence, the sylvan elegance of the setting, the uniformed servants – it was impressive almost beyond belief. And, of course, it was the perfect setting for two impressionable young misses from “the new world” to learn the niceties of polite society.
And Miss Webster knew that society well. Her circle of friends (all of them frequent visitors to Birchwell) included Mr. Justice Bleary, the distinguished jurist; Eric Wildman, Esq., President of the National Association for the Retention of Corporal Punishment and the Corpun Educational Association; Lord and Lady Leechmore – when Lord Leechmore was not arguing for a return to traditional values in the House of Lords, he sat on many Boards of Directors in the City of London; Basil Warpingham, a society photographer whose photographical interests extended well beyond that realm; Colonel Canewell, O.B.E. (ret.), a distinguished officer of Her Majesty’s crack Imperials Regiment; Rev. Gerald Goodsoul, the village vicar and a man of diverse interests. This distinguished company, and others, were frequently joined by Miss Frobisher, Agatha Webster’s personal assistant. The tall, impeccably mannered woman had originally trained as a nurse but had turned her interest to the social education of girls. Lorna Jane and Patsy would soon come to know all these individuals – in ways they could have never imagined!
The girls were installed in two well-appointed bedrooms in the second floor east wing of Birchwell. After the war, Miss Webster had commissioned various modernizations to Birchwell. One consequence of this was that Lorna Jane and Patsy had private bathrooms attached to their sleeping chambers.
Although the girls’ accommodation at Birchwell was very comfortable, this could not overcome the sense of loneliness and homesickness they were both suffering from. Agatha Webster was in London and Miss Frobisher had attended to the details of the girls’ “settling in,” advising them that Miss Webster would be returning to Birchwell in the next day or so and would officially greet them at that time.
An unhappy Patsy prepared herself for her first night in a strange bed by putting on the tops of her baby doll pyjamas and the skimpy panties that accompanied them. Snuggling down under the covers, she found herself thinking about her darling boyfriend, Bill Reed, and how desperately she missed him. Bill, an athletic and academically accomplished lad of the finest character, was poised to commence the legal education that would see him following in the footsteps of his eminent attorney father.
Patsy’s thoughts turned to a memorable January weekend she had spent with Bill – with full parental permission, of course! The couple, along with some other young friends, had gone to the High Peaks Ski Lodge. What the parents didn’t know was that, thanks to some creative “room exchanging”, the ardent young couple would end up sharing their accommodation with each other.
After a bracing afternoon on the slopes, Patsy and Bill returned to their luxuriously appointed room at the lodge. While Bill was still outside attending to the ski gear, Patsy slipped out of her ski boots, ski pants, and skimpy little panties – leaving her appealingly clad in a form fitting ski sweater with matching socks. She padded into the well-equipped kitchenette and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. Then she propped a soft pillow against the wall and lay down on the floor with her peerless bottom pointed at the cheery fireplace.
When Bill entered the room, Patsy had looked up with a lovingly warm and inviting expression. Her ardent lover stifled a gasp and wasted no time divesting himself of his ski boots, ski pants, and little white shorts. Moments later, the loving couple were locked in the most affectionate embrace imaginable.
Remembering the passionate evening, Patsy’s soft, naughty fingers found the naughty place and she was soon squirming with ecstasy.
As for Lorna Jane, the naughty girl had worn nothing to bed. Her thoughts, however, were less pleasurable than Patsy’s. Indeed, Lorna Jane was remembering her summer visit to Birchwell some two years earlier. During that sojourn, Lorna Jane had received frequent corrections from her strict Aunty. The one that lingered in her mind as supremely humiliating was caused by her behavioral misdemeanor of whispering and giggling with another girl during church services. Back at Birchwell, the tearful girl found herself standing in front of a gleefully seated Vicar Goodsoul while she held her skirt up with her hands behind her back, displaying her tight, virtually transparent girdle and her ridden-up panties underneath. A hairbrush wielding Aunt Agatha had stood in front of the contrite and frightened miss, delivering a lengthy scolding which, of course, was simply a prelude to an even more lengthy bare bottom smacking!
Lorna Jane’s thoughts next turned to the last few days she had spent at home. Apart from her parents and friends, with whom she had tearful farewells, the girl saw her Reformatory Parole Officer, Miss Wright, one last time. A morose Lorna Jane was comforted by the good woman, who assured her that “all would come right in the end” (no pun intended!) and gave the girl a warm hug and motherly kiss. Lorna Jane felt very close to Miss Wright and deeply appreciated all the older woman had done for her. As for Miss Wright, although she was a strict but loving guide for all her charges, she had a particular soft spot for the adorable Lorna Jane and her friend Kathy Ann Goodchild.
Lorna Jane also paid a final visit to Miss Moira Ashdowne, the attractive and imperious personal assistant to Learned Judge Roderick Pimm-Lansing. The girl had carefully laundered, pressed and wrapped up the seven pairs of reformatory-issue black and white striped bras and panties she had been issued with for the purposes of her “Reformatory Panty Parole.” Standing before Miss Ashdowne’s imposing desk, the girl submissively handed the striking woman the package.
Miss Ashdowne opened it to check the contents and then proceeded to give Lorna Jane one striped bra and panty set. “Your Reformatory Panty Parole is now at an end, young lady,” she announced with a cool but not unpleasant smile. “However, I suggest that you keep these as a very special souvenir and wear them from time to time to remind you how much you benefited from your time at the Greystone Reformatory for Naughty Girls.”
Reluctantly but obediently, Lorna Jane accepted the bra and panty set and wisely thanked Miss Ashdowne “for everything” in a most humble and contrite manner. Miss Ashdowne rose and walked around to the front of her desk. She embraced Lorna Jane warmly, lightly patting the girl’s succulent, snugly sheathed sitter! “Be a good girl, dear, and enjoy your time in Merrie England. When you return, you will truly be a properly brought up young lady and a credit to your family and our entire community!” Lorna Jane fell asleep with a slight smile on her lips as she recalled this exhortation to be a good girl. Surely she would demonstrate how right Miss Ashdowne was.
An Appointment with Aunty!
The next morning, Lorna Jane and Patsy found themselves – Miss Frobisher directly behind them – standing in front of Agatha Webster’s large, walnut desk in the latter’s richly appointed study.
“Ohhh, Aunty, dear…” Lorna Jane babbled, “I… I’m so g-glad to see you.” These words were immediately followed by her squeal of distress as Miss Webster’s imperious assistant gave the girl a hard smack on her tightly skirted bottom!
“You are not here on a social visit, young lady,” Miss Frobisher coldly announced. “You are here to be trained for polite society. You will speak only when spoken to. You will refer to Miss Webster as ‘Mistress’ and you shall call me ‘Madam’!”
The woman then jabbed her bony index finger between Patsy’s snugly skirted buttocks, eliciting a delicious squeal. “Did you hear that too, Maidenly?”
“Y-Yes, m-madam…” Patsy gasped out in a quavering voice.
“I think we’ll begin with you, Welworthy,” Miss Webster observed in a cold voice. “It’s time to assess the way you walk and elevate it to the highest standards of ladylike locomotion. Maidenly can watch. Take them to the Ballroom, Miss Frobisher, if you please!”
The Ballroom was a huge, high ceilinged room with virtually no furniture. A narrow, painted line ran from one end to the other – a distance of over 60 feet! After being ordered to divest herself of outer clothing, Lorna Jane soon found herself wearing only her bra, a taupe-hued girdle over her brief panties, sheer tan nylons and a very special pair of glossy, black patent leather pumps with five and one half inch spike heels – supplied by Enrico’s Exotic Footwear of London’s infamous Soho District.
A tearful Lorna Jane was required to “walk the line,” one foot directly in front of the other, while Miss Frobisher followed – a thin, whippy willow switch in her capable right hand. The slightest error by lovely Lorna Jane resulted in a stinging cut, administered to the backs of her succulently shapely thighs or calves!
Lorna Jane could manage four inch heels, but these gave her the most teeteringly precarious experience she had ever undergone in her young life! As her luscious legs ached and trembled, her mistakes increased – each one rewarded by the dutiful attentions of Miss Frobisher’s stinging switch. Lorna Jane’s squeals of distress echoed delightfully in the Ballroom.
“A young lady must learn to manage on heels,” Miss Webster observed matter-of-factly. For poor Lorna Jane and Patsy, it was just the beginning of their arduous introduction to English discipline and training!
Chapter 3: Dress for Distress
Fifty years ago, Miss Agatha Webster, the imposing mistress of a well-to-do Sussex estate, had never met the American writer Billy Hackmore personally, but she was aware of the work of the famous, internationally syndicated columnist and reporter on domestic discipline matters. She enjoyed the breezy style of his “Swell Exclusives,” not to mention the fascinating content of this recurring series, which frequently focused on the disciplinary habits of no-nonsense matrons dealing with misbehaving daughters.
Indeed, it was the inspiration of Mr. Hackmore that led Miss Webster, in the late nineteen-fifties, to commence publication of a quarterly journal entitled The English Gentlewoman’s Guide to Domestic Discipline. It was not long before she assembled an impressive masthead of editorial advisors, including Eric Wildman, Esq., the President of the National Association for the Retention of Corporal Punishment and President of the Corpun Educational Association. She was also fortunate to secure the involvement of Mr. Justice Bleary, of The High Court, who contributed his considerable expertise in the field of corrections under the nom de plume of “The Learned Justice.”
In the July 1959 issue of her journal, Agatha Webster personally penned a most informative article on “punishment dress.” As the good woman sagely observed about disciplinary accoutrements, “there are few disciplinary procedures that are more supremely humiliating for the well developed teenage girl. I am also proud to note that there is general agreement that this uniquely effective disciplinary ritual was invented in England, yet another example of the creative ingenuity that characterizes this Sceptered Isle, this Land of Kings!”
As Miss Webster went on to observe, the singular ingenuity of “punishment dress” is the way in which it combines two rather contrary themes in, to favor understatement, a thoroughly embarrassing fashion. Thus, the shapely (but naughty) teener miss finds herself standing on a rickety stool in The Sewing Room, her cheeks scarlet with humiliation, her lovely eyes glazed with tears, particularly when she catches a glimpse of herself in a nearby mirror.
The reason for her distress is evident, for she is wearing only her skimpy bra and panty set, an off-white elastic garter belt (or suspender belt, as the English would say), tautly suspendered nylon stockings and high, spike heeled pumps in glossy black patent leather. Meanwhile, her strict mother or guardian is busy at the sewing machine putting the finishing touches on a “little girl dress,” complete with puffed, short sleeves, a tight waistband, and a full little skirt hemmed to end precisely at the terminal curves of the young lady’s girlishly plump, delectably shapely buttocks!
“The psychology behind the punishment dress is simple but effective,” Miss Webster wrote with authority. “The combination of sheer nylon hosiery and spike-heeled pumps with the juvenile frock reminds the miscreant miss that she is a big girl being punished like a little one.”
Naturally, it was not long before lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy and pretty Patricia Jean (“Patsy”) Maidenly learned of this disciplinary technique. Consigned by their strict but loving mothers to spend the latter half of 1962 in Merrie England under the supervision of Miss Webster, Lorna Jane’s maiden aunt, the girls were to be trained at Birchwell Manor as paragons of perfection in polite society. Alas, any training session is not without its faults, and any fault must be swiftly corrected!
So it was that each girl found herself, in turn, in Birchwell’s well appointed sewing room. It was a task that Miss Webster could have easily delegated but its delightful nature motivated her to take personal responsibility. Indeed, the middle-aged matron positively beamed as she approached Lorna Jane with the semi-finished dress. The red-faced and tearful girl stood awkwardly on the rather unstable stool in her spike heels, nylon stockings, and appealing underthings. Her hair had been braided into delightfully juvenile pigtails.
Having ordered Lorna Jane to put the dress on, Agatha Webster now moved slowly around the girl, carefully basting the hemline until it ended precisely when Lorna Jane’s lovely bottom did. This arrangement ensured that dear Lorna Jane’s stocking tops, bare upper thighs, and garter belt straps would be on constant, shaming view. It also made certain that the slightest of bends would cause the ludicrously short little skirt to flick up, revealing deliciously bare terminal buttock curves and skimpy panties!
Later that afternoon, a highly polished silver gray Bentley pulled into Birchwell’s sweeping curved drive. A liveried chauffeur leapt out to open the door for Lord and Lady Leechmore. Agatha Webster’s butler, Humber, obsequiously received the distinguished couple and ushered them to the elegantly appointed drawing room where tea would be served.
In addition to the tea and cakes – served by a young, attractive, and appropriately humble maid – Lorna Jane and Patsy were required to make an appearance. The girls’ red, tear-wet faces were easily explained by their attire – both were in full punishment dress! Neither Lorna Jane nor Patsy were invited to take tea, but they were given an opportunity to walk in a wide circle, holding hands, and – in addition – take turns walking with a heavy book balanced on their heads. And, of course, while the girls “performed,” three pairs of eyes were glued to their every move. Alas, both Lorna Jane and Patsy dropped their books on two occasions!
As a result, Lorna Jane was the first to go over Miss Webster’s knee for a panties-down hand smacking while poor Patsy, tears dripping from her quivering chin, was required to watch. Then, to complete the “correction of faults,” the girls switched places. After both girls had been properly chastised, they were required to stand – side by side – facing the wall, panties at their knees while they held their little skirts up with their hands behind their backs. Then a second round of tea and cakes was served to Lord and Lady Leechmore, both of whom fulsomely congratulated Agatha Webster on both the quality of the refreshments and the entertainment!
Softly crying and totally humiliated, Lorna Jane and Patsy faced the wall, displaying their well-smacked bare bottoms while Miss Webster, Lord Leechmore and his lady wife chatted amiably.
“Harumph, dear lady,” Lord Leechmore affected the hoary tones he used when addressing the House of Lords as he turned to Agatha Webster. “I applaud your dedication to strict discipline. It’s what these naughty children need, as I have commented on several occasions in the Upper Chamber!”
“To be sure, Cedric,” Lady Leechmore chimed in. “But I must say, my dear Agatha, that from the look of those girls’ well rounded rumps they are most appropriate candidates for the cane!”
An icy shiver convulsed Lorna Jane and Patsy’s shapely spines, culminating in a delicious spasming of their prettily reddened bare buttocks.
“They most assuredly are, Loretta, dear,” Agatha Webster was quick to agree. “And that is why I have invited the most distinguished Mr. Eric Wildman to tea in just two days’ time so he may, ah, inspect the goods at first hand and recommend the appropriate instruments.”
“A capital idea, Agatha!” Lady Leechmore enthusiastically agreed, her beady eyes not failing to note the distinct flinching of two ripely rounded rears.
A Visit from Eric Wildman
For the next day and a half, Lorna Jane and Patsy spent much of their time in the well-equipped “classroom” Miss Webster had designed for her laudable work in the training of young ladies for polite society.
The spacious, well-lit room featured a large blackboard and gleaming hardwood floors. At the head of the room was a large and imposing desk, behind which was seated the ever-present personal assistant to Agatha Webster: Miss Frobisher. In her direct line of sight was a row of three old fashioned hardwood and wrought iron student desks with attached seats. Patsy occupied the front desk while Lorna Jane was directly behind her. The wooden seats were unforgivingly hard, and the sizing of both desk tops and seats (and the space between them) was uncomfortably tight for girls as well endowed as Lorna Jane and Patsy.
Thus it was quite easily to become rather distracted in this austere classroom. Both girls, however, had been made abundantly aware of the penalties for poor performance. Accordingly, they made desperate efforts to memorize the materials given to them – which included the 500 page classic Principles of Etiquette for Properly Reared Young Ladies by Percy Bottomley, M.A. (Oxon).
It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon when Miss Frobisher gave the order, “Books away, girls, and stand up!” Lorna Jane and Patsy obeyed at once, neatly placing their learned texts in the open spaces under their desk tops and then squirming awkwardly out of their constraining accommodations. “Very well, girls,” Miss Frobisher continued in her non-nonsense tone of voice, “you may now remove your skirts and underpants and place them neatly on your desk seats. Now, if you please.”
Stifling gasps of dread, a red faced Lorna Jane and equally crimson cheeked Patsy squirmed out of their form fitting skirts and little panties. The girls then stood, arms haplessly at their sides, clad only in their tight, short sleeved sweaters and bras, off-white elastic garter belts, tautly suspendered, sheer tan nylon stockings, and glossy black patent leather pumps with high spike heels.
“And now we are going to the Drawing Room,” Miss Frobisher didactly explained. “You will lead the way, Welworthy. You will follow, Maidenly. And I shall follow up your rears. Now, march!”
Miss Frobisher’s eyes were fastened on Patsy’s behind. She could not wait for the opportunity to cane that pale, ripely curvaceous rump that swayed and jiggled so appetizingly with each clicking, spike-heeled step.
On entering the Drawing Room, Lorna Jane and Patsy gasped, froze, and immediately covered their prettily thatched love nests with their soft hands. Agatha Webster was seated regally in a high backed wing chair. Across from her, on a Chippendale sofa, lounged a well-tailored man of distinguished appearance. A young and shapely maidservant hovered obsequiously in the background, ready to obey any command.
SMACKKK! Miss Frobisher’s hard palm made stinging contact with Patsy’s lower right buttock. Squealing, the girl stumbled forward accompanied by Lorna Jane who had at once comprehended the price of dilly-dallying! Both girls ended up in front of Miss Webster, crimson-faced, blinking back tears, their heads bowed in abject humility.
“You have the honor, Welworthy and Maidenly,” Miss Webster spoke in a cold but level tone of voice, “to be in the presence of Mr. Eric Wildman, President of the National Association for the Retention of Corporal Punishment, President of the Corpun Society, and purveyor of punishment canes for use on naughty children such as yourselves. Incidentally, you forgot to curtsey to Mr. Wildman. Three demerits each. Make a note, Miss Frobisher, if you will.”
“At once, Madam,” Miss Frobisher enthusiastically agreed, producing her ever-present companion, a small, black leather covered “punishment book.”
“Now present your backs to Mr. Wildman,” Miss Webster ordered the frightened girls in a commanding tone, “and place your hands on top of your heads.”
“Ah, a well developed pair,” Eric Wilman observed in the clipped, educated voice of a distinguished schoolmaster. “How old are they?”
“The fair haired one is nineteen,” Miss Webster responded, referring to young Patsy. Then she gestured to Lorna Jane’s back. “The brunette is 20.”
“And their, ah, hips. Would you know that measurement perchance?” Mr. Wildman ventured.
“They share the same, ah, avoirdupois,” Miss Webster replied. “Thirty-eight inches”.
Leaning forward slightly, Mr. Wildman poked his well-manicured index finger into the plumpest portion of Patsy’s left buttock. The girl stifled a gasp. The flesh sprang back instantaneously. He then repeated the procedure with Lorna Jane.
“I would recommend a Number 2,” began the gentleman, “the Girls’ Tutorial model, as we style it. You really should have a pair – one for each pupil. Its flexibility and suppleness are without rival. I can have them to you in two days via The Royal Mail.”
“I would be in your debt, Mr. Wildman,” Miss Webster responded with a warm smile.
As promised, the two punishment canes arrived at Birchwell two days later, via The Royal Mail and marked “PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL TO MISS AGATHA WEBSTER.” On a complimentary basis, Mr. Wildman also enclosed an additional light cane, along with a note on his personal, crested stationery. It stated:
My dear Miss Webster:
I have the pleasure to send you, as discussed, two Number 2, “Girls’ Tutorial” punishment canes. I am confident that these will serve your requirements most admirably.
I also take pleasure in sending you, on a complimentary basis, our lightest cane, which is intended for use with younger girls. Notwithstanding their ages and well-developed hindquarters, I believe that such an instrument may prove useful in connection with your disciplinary programme for Misses Welworthy and Maidenly.
To be specific, it would be appropriate for such girls to receive twenty-four strokes each with the light cane. The cumulative effect of such an extended chastisement would produce salutory results.
I remain, madam, your humble and obedient servant,
Eric Wildman, Esquire President, The National Association for the Retention of Corporal Punishment
As it turned out, the arrival of the punishment canes was indeed propitious!
Maiden Canings
Miss Frobisher had set a Tuesday morning test for Lorna Jane and Patsy. The questions would address a wide range of important issues pertaining to matters of proper etiquette in polite society. The passing mark was set at 80 percent. Alas, despite their efforts to memorize a diverse array of complicated material, both Lorna Jane and Patsy proved to be deficient pupils. Lorna Jane’s score was a dismal 58. Patsy fared even worse at 54.
All too soon, both girls found themselves standing – tearful and trembling – in front of Miss Webster’s imposing desk while Miss Frobisher hovered in the background. After a lengthy and pointed scolding on their poor performance, each girl was sentenced to “six of the best” on their girlishly plump bare buttocks with the Number 2 “Girls’ Tutorial” cane.
Lorna Jane’s execution was set first, for two o’clock in the afternoon. For one hour beforehand, the girl would stand in the corner wearing a dunce cap, holding her skirt up with her hands behind her back while a nearby clock loudly ticked off the inevitable arrival of the distressed damsel’s dire doom!
At precisely 2 P.M., Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher took charge of a tearful girl. Her dunce cap was removed and she was then commanded to take off her skirt and panties. Then she was marched to The Caning Chamber. Apart from a powerful overhead light, the window-less room contained only a solid wooden chair, with arms, that had been fastened to the hardwood floor with metal brackets.
Lorna Jane was required to bend forward over the back of the furnishing, and grip each of the chair’s arms at their mid-point. Leather straps, secured to the undersides of the arms, were snugly buckled around the girl’s wrists. Then Miss Frobisher produced a black leather buckling strap which she secured around Lorna Jane’s lovely, nyloned ankles.
Lorna Jane was bent forward, but not excessively, thanks to the height of the chair arms. This posture presented her peerless posterior in the most vulnerable and humiliating position possible. A delicious patina of gooseflesh crawled over her quivering buttocks and the tops of her ripely rounded thighs, where they were bare above her stocking tops.
The girl gasped with sheer dread as she heard the hissing sound of parting air as Miss Webster tested the cane’s characteristics. Then Lorna Jane heard herself scream as the ultra-flexible cane made stinging, searing contact with the ripest curves of her bare behind.
“One,” announced Miss Frobisher in a controlled voice. The pink welt that decorated Lorna Jane’s succulent rump was already darkening.
Lorna Jane’s poignant pleas for mercy were cut short by another scream as the cane made its mark precisely one inch above its last caress.
“Two.”
“I suggest you study more diligently, Welworthy,” Miss Webster sagely observed, “if you wish to avoid a repetition of this discomfort.” Lorna Jane’s shriek followed almost immediately.
“Three,” Miss Frobisher dutifully recorded, a slight smile playing at the corners of her thin lips.
The fourth and fifth slashes of the cane made the pain mount to a seemingly unbearable level in the howling girl’s plump bottom flesh. The sixth stroke sliced into that most exquisitely sensitive area of all, where thighs merge with buttocks. A screaming, hysterically sobbing Lorna Jane was lifted off her spike heels for an excruciating moment.
After about five minutes, Lorna Jane was released from the caning chair and made to grovel on her rounded, nyloned knees in front of Miss Webster and kiss the cane from crook to tip and back again.
“Make your kisses lingering and tender, Welworthy,” Agatha Webster advised, “to show your appreciation to Mr. Bendy.” (The good woman had many affectionate names for the instruments of correction she employed.)
Poor Patsy was next! After a humiliating and seemingly unendurable hour’s wait in the corner, during which she replayed over and over in her mind the terrifying sight of Lorna Jane’s pale bottom flesh being painted with angry pink wheals, the girl was finally secured to the caning chair to receive her just comeuppance.
Patsy’s screams of pain matched Lorna Jane’s, howl for howl, decibel for decibel. By the time her six-stroke punishment was finally over, the girl appeared to be dancing in her bonds in a futile attempt to ward off the extreme discomfort in her hindquarters.
Some may feel that the canings Lorna Jane and Patsy Jean received were rather strict. In fact, they were most appropriate to the standards of the day. Miss Webster well understood that girls study most diligently when the specter of corporal punishment hovers over their pretty heads. Moreover, the canes employed for the correction had been prescribed by an unquestioned expert, just as Miss Webster was an unquestioned expert in their use. Finally, for big, healthy girls like Lorna Jane and Patsy, the carefully administered canings could do no lasting harm. Indeed, the stripes would fade from view in a week or so. The memories, however, would last rather longer!
Chapter 4: Juvenile Justice
In the previous episode of this series, lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy and pretty Patsy Maidenly were undergoing their prolonged (and painful!) preparation for polite society under the strict tutelage of Miss Agatha Webster, the imposing mistress of a well-to-do Sussex estate. During the summer of 1962 the girls undertook a great deal of learning, aided with the helpful motivation of the traditional English cane applied to their delightfully deserving derrieres.
Meanwhile, several thousand miles away – on the other side of the Atlantic ocean – Mr. Billy Hackmore was in the spacious, walnut-paneled study of his apartment in Chicago’s exclusive Lakeshore area. The internationally famous syndicated columnist and writer on domestic discipline issues had chosen the “Windy City” as his headquarters because of its proximity to the Consolidated Publishing Corporation. Consolidated was the proud purveyor of the publications in which Mr. Hackmore’s “Swell Exclusives” appeared – including Teen Topics, Discipline Digest, and the always popular Juvenile Justice. Indeed, at this very moment, Mr. Hackmore was putting the finishing touches on the Summer 1962 issue of the latter publication – provocatively subtitled “Bobbysoxers Bared for Bottom Justice”! This issue of Juvenile Justice included a number of exciting illustrations by a celebrated artist of the day, Mr. Roger Benson.
The lead story was entitled “The Perils of Backseat Dating.” The title referred to the fact that many cute and shapely bobbysoxers would “entertain” their slobbering boyfriends in the backseats of hodrodded automobiles. Many distinguished community leaders – such as Learned Judge Roderick Pimm-Lansing and Miss Pricilla Penworthy, national PTA president – had decried the practice and called for strict disciplinary measures. As Miss Penworthy succinctly put it, “These naughty bobbysoxers who allow their delinquent boyfriends to take improper liberties should be taken to the woodshed and taught a good, old-fashioned lesson in morality!”
The accompanying illustration ably depicted the type of situation that doubtless so distressed Miss Penworthy. To be specific, the picture showed a young lad – his “souped-up” autocar in the background – bidding goodnight to his bobbysoxer girlfriend. In addition to tongue-kissing the ponytailed object of his adoration, the enterprising lad had pulled her skirt up, her panties down, and was busily fondling the girl’s most shapely bottom in a highly suggestive fashion!
The article included a number of “reader responses” including the following from Mrs. Ida R. of Salt Lake City. “Dear Mr. Hackmore: That girl certainly needs to have her bottom bared – but not for the improper attentions of her immoral boyfriend. No, indeed! She should have it bared for a good, long session over Mother’s knee with a traditional hard backed wooden hairbrush! I’ll wager that, after that experience, she’d think twice about her behavior in the company of the opposite sex!”
Mrs. Ida R.’s views were strongly echoed by Mrs. Helen L. of Muncie, Indiana: “Dear Mr. Hackmore: As the mother of two pretty and well-developed bobbysoxers, aged 15 and 17 respectively, I naturally have the strongest possible concern with matters of bobbysoxer behavior and appropriate disciplinary measures to ensure the preservation of proper behavioral standards. I can respectfully assure you, Mr. Hackmore, that if I ever caught one of my darling daughters engaging in the activity so graphically depicted by the illustration, she’d be on the receiving end of a bare bottom session she’d never forget!” Mrs. Helen L. went on to mention that, “for certain special occasions,” she allowed her seventeen-year-old to wear a garter belt, sheer nylons, and spike-heeled pumps. This elicited a tongue-in-cheek editorial enquiry from Mr. Hackmore if such “special occasions” included a spanking session!
Mrs. Vera M. of Spokane, Washington generously shared her disciplinary views with Mr. Hackmore. “My sixteen-year-old is as pretty and shapely a bobbysoxer as you’d hope to find and, most of the time, is well-behaved. But, like all teener girls, she slips up from time to time. On those occasions I require her to report to my bedroom with her buttocks already prepared for discipline. That means completely bare from the waist down except, of course, for her bobbysox and loafers or perhaps saddle shoes. Naturally, at her grown-up age, she is considerably embarrassed but – as far as I am concerned – that is simply part of the punishment. I commend these methods to the mother of the naughty girl who allowed her boyfriend to bare her bottom in your most graphic illustration!”
Miss Henrietta G. of Rockport, Illinois was brief but to the point: “Dear Mr. Hackmore: That girl letting her bottom get felt up that way deserves at least ten minutes with the hairbrush and good, long soap and water disciplinary session afterwards.”
The Perils of Petting
The next story in the Summer 1962 issue of Juvenile Justice was entitled “The Perils of Petting” and told the tale of Bernice M. and Nancy R., two pretty and very shapely sixteen-year-old bobbysoxers who were sophomores at Clearbrook High School, an institution located in a prosperous suburb of Denver, Colorado. An illustration with the story presented an appealing view of the two teeners walking down the corridor at the end of the school day. Giggling and tittering, a pony-tailed Nancy is telling an avidly interested Bernice about a telephone conversation she had with her boyfriend last night during which the lascivious boy told Nancy what he planned to do to her on their very next date!
Alas, Bernice and Nancy are not on their way to the school library to put in some solid study time. Rather, they are on their way to the school parking lot to meet their senior year boyfriends Brad J. and Craig W. The girls will jump into Brad’s hot-rodded Ford autocar and drive off to Pecker Point, a secluded area where their goings-on are unlikely to be witnessed by responsible adults. Unfortunately for their grades, the girls invariably engage in this naughty behavior at the end of each school day, the only source of variation being that they sometimes go in Craig’s souped-up Chevy Bel Aire.
When the girls finally get home for supper, they fib to their mothers about how long and hard they worked at the school library – having very carefully checked their lipstick to ensure that there are no tell-tale smears. The Pecker Point sessions involved, Mr. Hackmore blushed to report, petting to climax! Although both Bernice and Nancy were “technical virgins,” there was very little they had not done with a boy!
As usual, Mr. Hackmore published reader comments. Mrs. Dora S. of Portland, Oregon, offered a simple but effective solution. “Dear Mr. Hackmore: Those girls should be bent over the back of two sturdy, straight backed chairs – minus their skirts and panties, of course! Then their mothers should take turns walking up and down behind them with a hard-backed wooden hairbrush. The hairbrush should be used to punctuate a very lengthy and detailed lecture on proper bobbysoxer behavior. Needless to say, the sobbing, squirming girls would be expected to answer many pointed questions during this lecture as well as make the sincerest of promises about their future demeanor! After such a session, I’m certain two tearful and deeply red-bottomed bobbysoxers would think twice about using their shapely bottoms to entertain delinquent boys as opposed to using them to sit in the school library to learn their lessons!”
Mrs. Darlene E. of Kansas City was equally definite in her views. “Dear Mr. Hackmore: This is a case for maternal discipline if there ever was one! Both girls should be thoroughly scolded and then given good, long, over-the-knee bare bottom strappings! After the appropriate crimson hue has been obtained on their girlishly plump behinds and the backs of their shapely thighs, they should be marched into the bathroom and have their mouths washed out with Ivory Soap. The very idea, fibbing to their mothers!”
Miss Flora J. of Cleveland, Ohio felt that “…those two girls should be spanked together, if not by their parents then by a caring female schoolteacher. I’d like to see that Bobbysoxer Bernice standing bare bottomed and tearful as she was required to watch that Nancy girl get her just desserts with the school paddle – all the while knowing that she was going to be next!”
Indeed, there was not a single contributor who felt that the girls should be spared strict “bobbysoxer bottom justice”! As Mrs. Hanna D. of Oak Falls, Vermont summed it up: “Bernice and Nancy should be wiggling down a corridor – minus their skirts and panties – and they wouldn’t be on their way to a red hot necking and petting session either. They’d be on their way to the Execution Chamber that is Mother’s Bedroom for a red hot bare bottom hairbrush session! While they were getting their richly deserved spankings, the sobbing and squirming girls would be totally preoccupied with their burning, throbbing bottoms. But afterward I’m sure they’d make the connection between misbehavior and punishment and think twice about their future actions. When Mothers spank their darling daughters, they’re doing it because they love and care for them and want to make sure those cute bobbysoxers grow up to be properly behaved young ladies who will be a credit to their families and their communities!”
High School Initiation Hi-Jinks
The High School YMCA Society (“Hi-Y” for short), a national student leadership organization, was more than 70 years old in 1962. Dedicated to engaging youth in positive actions to influence Christian life in homes and communities, the Hi-Y organized itself around all-male and all-female chapters at high schools throughout the country.
Although the Hi-Y girls’ adjunct had a national office in Dickinson, Kansas, the individual chapters across the country had considerable discretion as to how they executed their affairs. The Hi-Y society at Clearbrook High had several rules and regulations. First, they would only accept girls who were sophomores. Second, they were only interested in the shapeliest, prettiest girls from the best families. Third, their initiation practices were, shall we say, strict!
Being a member of the Hi-Y society brought many social status advantages. And, as highly attractive girls from prosperous families, neither Nancy nor Bernice were surprised when they were invited to be considered for membership. Truth to tell, however, both were more than a little apprehensive about the legendary initiation rites! Nevertheless, both girls “passed muster” and were accepted.
Enquiring and thorough reporter that he was, Billy Hackmore telephoned both Nancy and Bernice and arranged to travel to Denver do an exclusive interview. The girls’ incentives included shopping certificates for use at their local Marshall Fields Department Store!
The interview took place at The Pink Pumpkin, a local gathering spot for area teens. With his breezy style and youthful manner, Mr. Hackmore had no problem “fitting in.” In fact, both girls were frankly flattered that the internationally famous journalist had taken an interest in their adventures.
After a few opening pleasantries, he asked the girls what they saw as the greatest advantage of Hi-Y membership. “Gosh, Mr. Hackmore,” Nancy responded with a cute giggle, “I guess you might say it’s on the social side. You’re surely envied by the girls who aren’t members!”
“That’s for sure,” Bernice chimed in brightly. “Why just a week after I became a member, the Captain of the Basketball Team asked me out on a date!”
But of course, Mr. Hackmore had heard that the initiations are rather strict. Bernice blushed and nodded, and turned to her friend. “They surely are strict,” Nancy replied, her lovely blue eyes very wide. “The big sisters even p-paddle new pledges!”
Asked if they received their initiation swats on the bare bottom, both girls stammered “Y-Yes!” simultaneously, blushing warmly.
Mr. Hackmore now received a full account from both curvaceous girls about how they had to play “nose against the wall” under the strict supervision of Miss Sally Sloan, the Clearbrook High Senior who headed up the Hi-Y Initiation Committee. As the illustration in Juvenile Justice shows, Nancy had to stand on tippy toes, bare below the waist except for her bobby sox, and hold a piece of paper against the wall with her cute nose. A wooden rod, balanced on top of two Coca Cola bottles, ensured that she remained a foot away from the wall. (The penalty for causing the rod to topple off its precarious perch was a session with Sniffy, the tame white rat who was the Clearbrook Hi-Y’s mascot!)
To make matters worse, the girl being initiated had her wrists securely tied behind her back and had to remain in the required position for a full half hour while a large, old fashioned alarm clock loudly ticked the oh-so-slowly passing seconds! Looking very morose and squirming prettily, Nancy and Bernice both admitted to Mr. Hackmore that they had dropped the piece of paper which had the number “12” written on it – the number of paddle strokes they would receive for failure!
“Gosh, Mr. Hackmore,” Nancy observed with a warm blush, “the strain on my legs was just awful! And the paper kept sliding downward, ever so slowly!”
Mr. Hackmore enquired with an engaging grin just how the paddlings had been. “Ouuuhhhh, it was just awful!” Bernice blurted out with a stop-light blush. “I was bawling like a baby after four!” Nancy, too, confessed that she had cried, her lovely features reflecting remembered distress. Sweetly, the girls proceeded to hold hands to comfort one another.
Renowned reporter that he was, Billy Hackmore probed on until he learned much more. He discovered, for example, that four of the pledges – blindfolded and hands tied behind their back – had been driven off one night (initiation lasted an entire week!) to a cemetery and left there. By the time the girls got free they were in a total tizzy. When they discovered where they were they became hysterical with fright and fled!
The pledges were also threatened with being taken to the local Nursing School so the student nurses could “practice on them” with enemas and bare bottom injections! Fortunately for the girls, that remained only a threat. Equally fortunately, Sniffy the Rat remained in his cage for Initiation Week.
There were, all in all, many memorable “hazing hijinks.” One Mr. Hackmore particularly liked was “Heels and Hose Day.” The pledges were required to wear their highest spike-heeled pumps, sheer, charcoal-hued nylons held up by a garter belt, and a skirt that had been shortened so that it was impossible to make the slightest move without showing off stocking tops and even bare thighs! The hapless pledges were required to retain the same attire for an evening session that included such hazing pranks as marching “Spanish Step Style,” “Lift That Skirt!”, the “Pushing a Peanut with your Nose Race,” toasting the Clearbook Hi-Y Club with a glass of water to which several drops of cod liver oil had been added, and – of course – more bare bottom paddling! One other stunt the hapless pledges found particularly distressing was the requirement that they get at least four boys on the Basketball Team to autograph a pair of plain white panties – while the girls were wearing them!
Everyone agreed that the Summer 1962 issue of Juvenile Justice was an outstanding success with its focus on Bottom Justice for Bobbysoxers and that dynamic duo – Mr. Billy Hackmore and his able illustrator Mr. Roger Benson – were to be roundly congratulated. Indeed, just two weeks after the issue came out, legendary Hollywood producer Lamont van Renselier III contacted the two gentlemen in question about converting the issue to a script and storyboard that would provide the foundation for another drive-in movie triumph. Mr. van Renselier even went on to suggest that this could be the beginning of movie careers for beautiful Bernice and nubile Nancy!
Chapter 5: Maid to Mop
As we know from prior issues of this column, Miss Agatha Webster was charged during the summer of 1962 with the education and “finishing” of two young American girls: Lorna Jane Welworthy, 20 years of age, and Patricia Jean “Patsy” Maidenly, just 19. As the owner of a large country estate in Sussex and a stylish flat in London’s exclusive Belgravia area, she knew the importance of obtaining and retaining good servants. Although the availability of top class domestic staff had declined somewhat in post-war Britain, Miss Webster’s impeccable and extensive connections had enabled her to deal with the problem effectively.
The good woman also knew that at some point in the future, both Lorna Jane and Patsy would contract good marriages and would live in a style that would include the presence of domestic help, although naturally not at the level that characterized the grand environs of Birchwell.
Miss Webster astutely recognized that an important part of the girls’ preparation for polite society would include instruction in the supervision of such domestic assistance. In Miss Webster’s view, the very best way to launch Lorna Jane and Patsy on this road of understanding was for the girls to serve as maids for a two week period at Birchwell. How better to obtain a first-hand view of the importance of a servant’s duties as well as the essential need for firm guidance in that role?
Agatha Webster therefore decided that she would grant two weeks of summer vacation to Marie Doolittle and Shirley Costermonger, the two pretty, shapely, and very obedient nineteen-year-olds who served as permanent live-in maids at Birchwell. The two were naturally delighted and immediate plans were made that they would travel together to Brighton’s seashore where they could enjoy a full fortnight of sleeping in, going to dances, and possibly even competing in the “Miss Brighton Bikini Contest”! With respect to the latter, Ferretson – Miss Webster’s chauffeur – had given each of the girls a skimpy polka dot bikini and had suggested they take their highest spike heeled pumps with them. Ferretson, it might be noted, was well-named. His features were conspicuously angular and his insinuating, sharptoothed smile most unpleasant. He was, however, a good driver and – in Miss Webster’s presence – a groveling toady.
And so it came to pass that Lorna Jane and Patsy found themselves fitted for maids’ uniforms. On a foundation of skimpy white bra and panty sets, off-white elastic garter belts, tautly-suspendered, charcoal-hued sheer nylon stockings, and glossy black patent leather pumps with four-inch spike heels, they wore skin-fitting black satin dresses, tightly belted at their shapely waists and ending two inches below their lovely, rounded knees. Little white lace maid’s caps and ridiculously tiny little white aprons completed their attire.
As we know, both Lorna Jane and Patsy came from prosperous homes where their strict but loving mothers had maids. Therefore, neither girl was exactly an expert on “domestic management matters.” They would learn quickly over the next two weeks, or else!
At Birchwell, when maids required discipline for minor offences this was handled directly by Mrs. Cranny, the dour widow who served as cook. More serious matters were referred to Miss Frobisher, Agatha Webster’s personal assistant. If the behavioral matter were deemed sufficiently serious, Miss Webster herself would become involved and then, needless to say, heaven help the hapless maid!
Lorna Jane and Patsy’s introduction to maid service occurred on a Tuesday evening of their very first week of “indentured servitude.” Miss Webster had invited several of her close friends: Mr. Justice Bleary of The High Court, Lord and Lady Leechmore, Gerald Goodsoul (the Village Vicar), Colonel Cedric Canewell, O.B.E. (ret.), and Basil Warpington, a society photographer with, shall we say, “diverse” interests. The omnipresent Miss Frobisher also attended, of course.
The two girls had received intensive instruction from Miss Cranny before the event, and that helped. However, it also filled their distraught minds with a mass of confusing detail. The knowledge that their performance would be “graded” by Miss Frobisher only augmented their girlish apprehensions.
Both Lorna Jane and Patsy remembered to curtsey at all appropriate times, avoided spilling anything, and behaved with delightfully succulent servility. Both girls experienced icy shivers and watery knees when they observed, on more than one occasion, Miss Frobisher surreptitiously scribbling in her little, black leather bound notebook!
Apart from Miss Frobisher, the other dinner guests – each in their own way – contributed to the girls’ delicious distress. Mr. Justice Bleary found Lorna Jane and Patsy’s tightly sheathed, ripely rounded behinds irresistible targets for occasional judicial pinches. Lady Leechmore’s cold, gray eyes left neither girl in much doubt about what the high-born woman would like to do to their naughty bottoms. The Reverend Goodsoul tittered, drooled, and utterly failed to observe the holy edict, “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s ass”! As for Basil Warpington, his creative mind was preoccupied with a photo-series featuring two shapely and skimpily attired maids who had been strictly caned, then bound and gagged!
A Very Appropriate Penalty
Next morning, outfitted in their revealing maids’ outfits, Lorna Jane and Patsy were marched by Miss Frobisher to the huge, paneled library that served as Miss Webster’s office at Birchwell. On entering the room, the girls gulped audibly when they saw Mr. Justice Bleary seated behind Miss Webster’s grand desk, resplendent in the crimson and ermine robes and the white wig that graced his impressive person in The High Court. Miss Webster, clad in a form fitting black suit, with matching black calfskin pumps, occupied a nearby Chippendale wing chair.
Fortunately, the girls remembered to curtsey and stammer out an obsequious “M’Lord” and then stood haplessly before the imposing desk, hands at their sides, heads bowed in abject humility.
Miss Webster now rose to her feet and announced, in cold contralto tones, “You girls have been summoned to this tribunal to face charges that you were deficient in the performance of your maiding duties at dinner last evening. Miss Frobisher, who has been duly deputized as prosecutor by M’Lord, Mr. Justice Bleary, will now enumerate the charges. Kindly proceed, Madam Prosecutor.”
With a flourish, Miss Frobisher produced her leather bound notebook and, in cold, measured tones, commenced reading her charges to the court. Poor Lorna Jane and Patsy trembled, stifled gasps, and blinked back tears as the woman went on and on. At last it was over.
“Harumph!” Mr. Justice Bleary straightened himself in his chair, his cheeks stained with the blush of last evening’s copious consumption of claret. “Harumph!” the Learned Justice repeated himself for emphasis. “You girlies have been sadly derelict in your duties. The facts of the case are clear. Why, if we were living in the olden times, you girlies would be up before Judge Jeffreys – God Bless His Memory! – and sentenced to a one way trip to Tyburn Prison where naughty maids soon learned the price of giving offence to their Mistresses.”
An icy shiver convulsed both Lorna Jane and Patsy’s shapely spines, culminating in a delicious, rippling spasm of their tightly skirted buttocks.
“Harumph!” Mr. Justice Bleary warmed to his task. “And a pretty pair you’d make – stripped to your scanties and bound – swinging side by side!” Lorna Jane and Patsy gasped, swaying as if they were about to faint as the warm tears dripped off their quivering chins. The hapless girls had no way of knowing that Mr. Justice Bleary was simply engaging in a little “judicial humour” at their expense.
“Fortunately for you girlies,” the Learned Judge continued, “we are living in a more permissive age and the correctional system reflects this accordingly. I therefore direct that your Mistress, Miss Agatha Webster, shall design appropriate domestic penalties that shall be administered upon your pretty persons as punishment for mediocre maiding! Madam Prosecutor, kindly take these miscreant misses into custody forthwith!”
Patsy was dealt with first. Within a hour, the tearful girl found herself stripped to her off-white elastic garter belt, sheer, charcoal-hued nylon stockings, glossy black patent leather spike-heeled pumps, and her diminutive little white maid’s cap. Unhappily for the poor girl, a red rubber ball-gag occupied her pretty mouth while her arms had been secured behind her back with glossy black leather buckling straps at her wrists and just above her elbows. A set of manacles, connected by a six-inch chain to ensure tiny, mincing steps, secured her shapely ankles. As a nuance in discipline, small bells were fastened to the ankle manacles! Patsy’s girlishly plump, succulently shapely bottom was decorated with a number of pretty stripes which thanked their origins to a freshly cut willow switch and Miss Frobisher’s disciplinary expertise.
While Miss Webster watched with obvious approval, Miss Frobisher thrust the wooden handle of a mop between Patsy’s beautifully rounded thighs and instructed the girl to grip the end of the handle with her hands which, of course, were secured behind her back. Miss Frobisher then took a pitcher of water and poured it on the tiled floor of the large kitchen the trio occupied. “Now, Maid Maidenly – MOP!” Miss Frobisher commanded.
A desperately frightened and tearful Patsy wondered how on earth she could manage a mop in her present situation. She made a few ineffectual sweeps of the cleaning instrument.
“I’d recommend plenty of action, Maidenly,” intoned Miss Frobisher. “Unless, of course, you’d like a few more cuts of the switch on those shapely stockinged legs of yours.”
A desperate Patsy found that by swinging her hips in the most lascivious and unladylike fashion imaginable, she was able to approximate effective mopping. The girl’s tear-wet cheeks were scarlet with shame. Humiliatingly, the mop handle kept rising, wedging itself between her ripely moulded gluteal cheeks. The little bells on the ankle manacles jingled merrily with her twisting gyrations. Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher watched the girl’s every move with cold smiles. The willow switch rested in a brine filled vase as a terrible reminder!
A Disciplinary Shopping Trip
Lovely Lorna Jane’s punishment session was set for the morning of the next day. Under Miss Frobisher’s strict direction, the hapless girl was required to put on a black nylon “torpedo” bra, a black satin elastic garter belt, ultra- sheer, charcoal-hued nylon stockings, and a tiny black nylon g-string panty that left the exquisitely pale flesh of her succulently rounded buttocks deliciously bare! These provocative items of attire had been obtained by Miss Webster via Basil Warpington, who had a close relationship with a secret supplier of naughty lingerie in London’s infamous Soho district.
By way of marked contrast with the above-mentioned items, Lorna Jane’s ensemble was completed with a demure little pillbox hat, little white gloves, and matching glossy white patent leather pumps with high spike heels. Near tears, the distressed damsel was required to put her hands on her hips and be inspected by her strict mistress, Aunty Agatha.
“Very good, Miss Frobisher,” Agatha Webster spoke approvingly. “Procure the coat, if you will.”
Miss Frobisher opened a closet and took out a fawn-colored, belted, Mackintosh-style raincoat. Lorna Jane was at once ordered to put the coat on. The girl gasped audibly as Miss Frobisher buckled the belt around the girl’s shapely waist at the tightest possible notch.
Agatha Webster now handed Lorna Jane a lengthy list. “You are going into the village for a little shopping trip, Welworthy,” Miss Webster explained in a patronizing tone. “Miss Frobisher will supply you with the requisite funds and a carrier bag into which you will put the specified acquisitions. Ferretson will drive you to the edge of the village and wait for you there while you exercise those pretty legs of yours in the performance of your errands.”
As can be imagined, Lorna Jane’s nearly naked condition under the raincoat caused her the most exquisite distress imaginable. To make matters worse, the garment ended less than an inch below her nubile, nyloned knees. In addition, because of the positioning of the coat’s buttons, the action of walking would cause the lower front parts to flap about. Lorna Jane would be compelled to take tiny, mincing steps to minimize the risk that keen eyes would infer that she was wearing an inappropriately short skirt. Remember, gentle reader, that this was 1962 – well before the “miniskirt era”!
The trip to the village of Wopping Stoat with Ferretson was a horror for poor Lorna Jane. Inside the ice-blue Bentley, she had to sit in the front seat, next to the leering, smirking chauffeur. The girl clutched the hem of her Mackintosh, her head bowed in shame.
“I say, miss,” Ferretson spoke in a tone of utterly false courtesy. “May I ask what you are wearing under that coat?”
Lorna Jane gasped, blushing scarlet. “Ouuuuhhhh… I-I… Ouuuuhhhh…” was all she could manage before falling silent, consumed by the depths of humiliation.
Ferretson parked the Bentley at the bottom of the High Street, ensuring that Lorna Jane would have a long way to walk. “It’s rather pleasant and sunny today, miss. Would you like to leave your raincoat in the car?” he offered with a barely concealed snicker. Lorna Jane squealed with fright and exited the vehicle as quickly as possible.
She walked, taking small steps and keeping her head down in the hope others in the street would not see her shame red cheeks. The combination of high spike heels and little, mincing steps caused her girlishly plump behind to sway and jiggle. The rubberized lining the raincoat gently brushed the pale, smooth, ripely-moulded flesh of her buttocks. The wicked g-string panty insinuatingly bisected those succulent hemispheres and rubbed against her plump little bumhole and ultra-sensitive vulval lips. The friction was unavoidable and insistent.
The hapless girl found herself uncontrollably thinking about the tenderly loving caresses of her far-away boyfriend, Rod Long. Finally, as the friction of her panties persisted, the girl was overtaken by a most surprising sensation. It was a feeling of pleasure that built while she was walking. Slowly at first, an impending orgasm mounted to a level that caused Lorna Jane to cover her trembling lips with her soft hand to stifle an outcry. She had never known such shame!
Except, possibly, the shame of the shopping trip itself. The thought of Miss Webster’s cane was in her mind as her trembling hand touched the doorknob of the Chemist’s Shop – which is what our British friends call their drugstores. Blushing and stammering, the hapless and humiliated girl asked the balding and portly proprietor for an eight-ounce rubber bulb enema syringe and a tube of Vaseline. He smirkingly procured the goods. Later, the lengthy list required a visit to the Ironmonger’s (the delightfully quaint British appellation for a hardware store) to purchase a twelve-foot coil of white clothesline rope.
Lorna Jane shivered with dread as she recalled that it was precisely this type of rope that Mrs. Evelyn Goddard had once used to tie her up after she had pilfered the good woman’s stockings. But, unlike Aunty Agatha, Mrs. Goddard had also shown moments of great warmth and kindness toward Lorna Jane and the girl had learned not only to respect, but also love, her strict guardian during the 1961-62 school year.
A Corporal Conclusion
Her lengthy “shopping trip” concluded, Lorna Jane was returned to Birchwell. Miss Frobisher marched the girl into Miss Webster’s dark-toned library and office. The girl was required to stand – divested of her raincoat – quivering in her skimpy and provocative attire while Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher carefully compared her purchases with the shopping list.
“The heliotrope lozenges are missing,” Miss Webster observed, an inflection of deep disappointment in her cultivated voice. “They are Mr. Justice Bleary’s favorite confection,” she added meaningfully.
An icy shiver convulsed Lorna Jane’s skimpily attired, succulently shapely body. Tears welled in the girl’s eyes. The Learned Judge, with his impressive wig and opulent robes, filled her with the deepest dread. Would Miss Webster inform him of her behavioral deficiency? What sentence would he decree?
“Whatever shall we do?” Miss Webster enquired of Miss Frobisher, a thin smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Why, send her back to fetch them,” Miss Frobisher responded without hesitation. “And this time she’ll do it without the coat!” she added darkly. Lorna Jane gasped, her lovely rounded knees almost buckling.
“A capital idea, Miss Frobisher,” Miss Webster responded. A long, torturing pause ensued. “But I don’t think the good burghers of Wopping Stoat are quite ready for Welworthy en deshabille, as our French friends would say.”
Agatha Webster now showed her kindly side. She turned her gaze to the softly crying, haplessly quivering girl. “You have made an error, Welworthy,” she observed in a pleasant tone of voice. “But it is a relatively minor one and a relatively minor penalty will therefore suffice. Specifically, I shall give you six strokes of the nursery cane. Then you will put your nice raincoat back on and Ferretson will return you to the village for the lozenges.”
The older woman then rose to her feet and gently but firmly gripped Lorna Jane by her upper left arm. “You’re for the Caning Chamber, dear. I believe you know the way.”
The spike-heeled pumps worn by Agatha Webster and Lorna Jane clicked down the long hallways of Birchwell. Miss Frobisher, wearing rubber-soled shoes, followed up the rear, her eyes glued to Lorna Jane’s undulating rump. Her ears would have much preferred to hear a sentence of nine strokes with the “Girls’ Tutorial Number 2” punishment cane.
Secured to the Caning Chair, Lorna Jane emitted a poignant, keening squeal as the nursery cane hissed through the air and ended its journey on the plumpest curves of her bottom. The instrument of correction stung but was not remotely like the searing pain the “Girls’ Tutorial Number 2” punishment cane visited upon girlishly plump behinds.
The five strokes that followed, dutifully recorded by a disappointed Miss Frobisher, were much the same. It seemed that Miss Webster was more intent upon administering “a reminder,” rather than a true punishment. Indeed, when it was over, the older woman gently stroked Lorna Jane’s lovely brunette tresses and murmured, “You’ve been a brave girl, Welworthy. Try not to be forgetful in the future.”
The trip to the village was a distressing experience for poor Lorna Jane. Despite the relative leniency of her correction, her bottom throbbed and tingled, causing her to squirm uncontrollably – in the course of which she afforded the eagle-eyed Ferretson a number of delicious views of shapely, stockinged thighs.
Back on the High Street, Lorna Jane made her way to the Confectioner’s Shoppe. Each mincing little spike-heeled step seemed to augment the throbbing tingle in her succulent sitter. This time, when the rubberized lining of the coat brushed against her freshly-caned buttocks, there were no thoughts of Rod Long and his tender caresses. Instead, to her credit, Lorna Jane thought about the lessons she was learning at Birchwell and how they were helping her to become a properly brought up young lady who would be accepted in any and all quarters of polite society and to be a dutiful and obedient young wife who would know how to manage her domestic responsibilities.
Chapter 6: Diligent Discipline
As we saw in the last episode of this series, Agatha Webster, the owner in 1962 of a large country estate in Sussex called Birchwell, had granted her two nineteen-year-old maids, Shirley Coster-monger and Marie Doolittle, two weeks of summer vacation so that lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy and pretty Patsy Maidenly might serve in their places, thereby gaining invaluable first hand experience of the domestic management process.
Both Shirley and Marie had been born “within the sound of Bow Bells,” which means they were from East London and spoke with Cockney accents. Although Miss Frobisher’s diligent efforts at elocution instruction had softened these accents somewhat, any knowledgeable person with a good ear would instantly perceive that the girls had been born into the serving class.
Both light brown-haired Shirley and the darker brunette Marie were pretty girls, in a common sort of way, and had been blessed with exceptionally shapely bodies that looked very fetching in the skin-fitting maiding uniforms Miss Webster required them to wear. Well aware of the penalties for deficient performance or impudence, both girls did their very best to be good maids and to behave in a pleasingly servile manner.
For their vacation, Shirley and Marie traveled by second class rail coach to Brighton, a lively seaside town in the south of England. Arrangements had been made for the girls to stay with Shirley’s Aunt Addie Toff, a good-natured widow who rented out rooms in her home near the seafront. Fortunately, one of the rooms was unoccupied and this would be available for Shirley and Marie to share. The arrangement would work well, for the girls were very fond of one another.
On the morning after their arrival, Shirley and Marie enjoyed the luxury of rising late and – after performing their ablutions and putting on their prettiest clothes – went off to a nearby Coffee Bar to get a bite of breakfast and enjoy listening to the Juke Box.
Shirley and Marie were friendly girls and soon fell into conversation with two other teenage misses – Jeannie and Brenda – who worked as temporary copy typists when they needed money and enjoyed time-off when they didn’t. Jeannie suggested that the four-some visit the Brighton Pier Fun House on the afternoon of the next day. “They’ve got ever so many rides,” Jeannie confided, “and you can meet ever so many boys!” she added with a giggle.
“Don’t forget to wear full skirts and your prettiest panties and nylons,” Brenda added, also with a giggle.
Within minutes of arriving at the Fun House the next day, Shirley and Marie found out the reason for Brenda’s advice about full skirts and pretty underthings. There was a walkway in the Fun House which was overlooked from a glass cubicle occupied by one Bert Sykes, a balding, middle aged man with an eye for pretty girl flesh. When an attractive target entered his field of vision, he would activate powerful air jets that blew the girl’s skirts well up over her waist, displaying her loveliest assets! Naturally, both Shirley and Marie fell “victim” to Bert’s air jets. Squealing and prancing about, the girls put on quite a show for the boys who congregated around the area.
Teddy Boy Delinquents
Not surprisingly, two or three minutes after their most interesting “Public performance” on the Fun House walkway, Shirley and Marie were approached by two lads in their early twenties whose hairstyles and attire proclaimed that they were “Teddy Boys.” Mr. Justice Bleary of The High Court had gone on record saying, “These Teddy Boy delinquents are a scourge to this Sceptered Isle. Those who appear before my bench shall receive no leniency!” On the same theme, in a lengthy speech in The House of Lords, Lord Leechmore had decried the “Teddy Boy development” and called for a return to the strict capital punishment practices of Judge Jeffreys!
The two youths introduced themselves as Vince and Lenny and were soon squiring Shirley and Marie around the Fun Fair, treating them to the thrilling carnival rides, cotton candy, and other treats! The boys seemed to have plenty of money. Little did Shirley or Marie know that it came from nefarious dealings in the “Juke Box Racket” and fixed wagering at the greyhound dog races!
Vince and Lenny seemed to have unlimited free time and the girls continued to see them every day. Indeed, by Thursday night they were on intimate terms. Vince had parked his Ford Zodiac convertible in a secluded grove near the waterfront. In the front seat, he had Shirley’s skirt up and her panties off. Pantyless but panting, Shirley wrapped her shapely, stockinged legs around Vince as their carnal coupling achieved ecstatic proportions. Meanwhile, in the back seat, young Lenny was delivering on Marie’s murmured plea: “Ouuuuuuhhhhh, Lenny… give it to meeeee!”
The next day, Vince – who was the ringleader in the Vince and Lenny arrangement – suggested the girls compete in the Miss Brighton Bikini Contest coming up on Saturday. He told the girls he “had connections” and their late entry into the affair would present no problems.
And so it came to pass that on a warm and sunny Saturday afternoon, Shirley and Marie found themselves participating in the “Miss Bikini” contest. Both girls wore the skimpy garments Ferretson had given to them, plus their highest glossy patent leather spike heeled pumps. When it was each girl’s turn to parade, she wiggled down the elevated runway – spike heels clicking – while an appreciative audience of middle-aged men offered up wolf whistles and suggestive comments!
Also busy was “Flashbulb Freddy,” the staff photographer with the Brighton Bugle, a sleazy local tabloid. As he pointed his camera at sweet Shirley’s undulating behind, he turned to a colleague from the paper and muttered, “That’s what the public wants – new faces!”
The two week’s vacation passed in a flash for Shirley and Marie and, all too soon, they were bidding passionate farewells to Vince and Lenny at the train station. The return to Birchwell would mean the return to the rigors of work and, although neither girl imagined it at the time, certain experiences they would never, ever forget!
As we know from reading the prior chapter of this saga, Ferretson – Miss Webster’s chauffeur – had given Shirley and Marie skimpy little polka dot bikinis as a “going away present” prior to their summer vacation departure and had even suggested that the girls participate in the “Miss Brighton Bikini Contest.” Needless to say, the pruriently-minded Ferretson had a “hidden agenda.”
As it happens, he had a close friend in Brighton – one Lew Peeker – who frequented such “beauty contests” when he was not operating his “hole in the wall” bookstore on a sleazy Brighton backstreet. The bookstore specialized in “glamour publications” which meant plenty of panties and stocking tops on display. In addition, his establishment – if one could call it that – featured a back room where one could obtain (for outrageous prices) stronger, morally degenerative materials from France.
Although Shirley and Marie only managed to tie for third place in the Miss Brighton Bikini Contest, they – along with the several of the other girls – received generous photographical coverage (or should we say “uncoverage”!) in the Brighton Bugle tabloid! Peeker, who had slobberingly viewed the contest proceedings, sent a copy of the issue of the Bugle in question to his friend Ferretson.
All of this, of course, was far from Shirley and Marie’s minds as they returned to Birchwell by second class rail coach. In fact, the girls were in a good mood. They had each won two pounds sterling at the bikini contest and their holiday luggage had been augmented by various stuffed toys the boys had won for them at various “Fun Fair” events. Each girl, however, was missing a pair of sheer and skimpy panties – these intimate articles having been seized as “trophies” by the opportunistic Vince and Lenny!
The girls would have been considerably less cheery if they knew about developing events at Birchwell! Indeed, on receipt of the tabloid newspaper from Lew Peeker, Ferretson had obsequiously requested an audience with his employer, Miss Webster. Standing before the imperious woman’s imposing desk, Ferretson shuffled his feet and perspired as he handed her the copy of the Brighton Bugle.
Agatha Webster inspected the material with great care. At long last, she looked up at her chauffeur. “You have acted with proper probity, Ferretson,” she announced in a cold voice. “You may be assured I shall get to the bottom of this disgraceful matter. Also, I shall direct Miss Frobisher to see that there is an extra two pounds sterling in your next week’s pay packet.”
As Ferretson tugged his forelock respectfully and made his departure, Miss Webster was in little doubt that the man would have gladly forfeited an entire week’s wages to witness what was going to happen to poor Shirley and misfortunate Marie!
A Disciplinary Contest at Birchwell
And so it came to pass that, just two days after Ferretson’s report to Miss Webster, a very special luncheon was held at Birchwell. Apart from Agatha Webster and the omnipresent Miss Frobisher, the event was attended by Mr. Justice Bleary, Lady Leechmore, and Basil Warpington. The luncheon service was provided by Shirley and Marie. After the meal was concluded, the maids were ordered to serve coffee in the library and, after completing the post-luncheon clean-up, to report to the assembled group.
Half an hour later, Shirley and Marie arrived at the library and stood nervously, arms at their sides, before the severe looking quartet of Webster, Bleary, Leechmore, and Warpington.
“Tell me,” Miss Webster enquired with a wickedly arched eyebrow, “did you girls have an enjoyable time in Brighton?”
“Y-Yes, M-Madam…” Shirley and Marie stammered simultaneously. They already sensed that something was very, very wrong!
“Yes, I’d say you did,” Miss Webster responded curtly, producing the copy of the Brighton Bugle that would condemn Shirley and Marie to exceptionally painful bottom justice! Their employer leafed through the tabloid, her patrician nose wrinkled in disgust. “Yes, and I’d say a number of male personages had an enjoyable time as well – feasting their eyes on your exposed flesh!”
Shirley and Marie felt as if their pretty mouths were stuffed with cotton wool while their prettily rounded knees were suddenly very, very watery.
“Harumph, to be sure!” Mr. Justice Bleary added with appropriate gravity. The expression in Lady Leechmore’s ice cold eyes suggested she would like to see both girls consigned to the gallows. As for Basil Warpington, his smirking countenance made it clear he could hardly contain his ecstatic delight.
“Would you be kind enough, Miss Frobisher,” Miss Webster now directed, “to march these two miscreants to see Mrs. Cranny in the kitchen. Cook has been fully briefed on what has happened, and what is going to happen!”
What was “going to happen” was that Shirley and Marie were going to be prepared for the strictest punishment session they had ever undergone at Birchwell. Mrs. Cranny was not only an accomplished cook, she was a disciplinarian of the old school. She was going to have the pleasure of assuming responsibility for the first phase of Shirley and Marie’s correction. Not only was the good woman – who had been in Agatha Webster’s service for many, many years – pleased to comply with her employer’s directives, Miss Frobisher had strongly hinted that Mrs. Cranny would see a most welcome bonus in her forthcoming pay packet. A welcome reward for her performing these “additional duties”!
These “additional duties” commenced with Mrs. Cranny ordering the two naughty maids to walk ahead of her into an ante-room adjoining the large and well-equipped kitchen. This ante-room, apart from a strong overhead light and a sturdy, armless wooden chair, was sparsely furnished.
While Miss Frobisher looked on with ill-concealed glee, Mrs. Cranny issued her first order to Shirley and Marie: “Remove your aprons, girls, and then roll your skirts up around your waist – very tightly – both in front and back!”
Blinking back tears, the frightened girls complied at once and were soon standing – quivering in their spike-heeled pumps – with their little black nylon panties, off-white elastic garter belts, and tautly suspendered, sheer charcoal-hued nylon stockings on shaming display.
A physically commanding woman, Mr. Cranny’s favorite disciplinary procedure with naughty maids was to take them over her capable knee and let their girlishly plump bare bottoms feel her hard, matronly palm. She understood very well just how humiliating such childish punishment was for the older teenage girl.
Shirley was the first to get it while a tearful and trembling Marie was required to watch. Mrs. Cranny’s slowly spaced, briskly administered slaps soon had poor Shirley squealing, sobbing and writhing. A total of fifty smacks left the girl’s curvaceous bottom and backs of her upper thighs – where they were bare above her stocking tops – a very pretty shade of red. Then it was poor Marie’s turn!
When the spankings had been concluded, Miss Frobisher and Mrs. Cranny marched a sobbing Shirley and mewling Marie up to their bedrooms in the servants’ wing of sprawling Birchwell. The hapless girls were required to make the lengthy journey without their panties, holding their tightly rolled skirts up with their hands behind their backs. Marie was sent to her room to wait while Miss Frobisher and Mrs. Cranny dealt with Shirley. The girl was required to strip naked and then put on the skimpy polka dot bikini and glossy white patent spike-heeled pumps that had adorned her succulent body at the “Miss Bikini Contest”. After Marie had been dealt with in the same way, both girls were marched down to an ante-room located off the Ballroom – which, as we will recall from an earlier episode in this series, is the huge room where pretty Patsy and lovely Lorna Jane were required “to walk the line” in horribly tight girdles and ultra-high spike-heeled pumps.
Agatha Webster – inspired by an illustration for a Discipline Digest article entitled “The Miss Spanked Teenager Contest” – had directed that the number “3” be pinned to the back of Marie’s bikini top while the number “4” was fastened to Shirley’s top.
Earlier in the day, Lorna Jane and Patsy had been told to go to their bedrooms and remain there. Leaving Shirley and Marie locked in the ante-room, Miss Frobisher and Mrs. Cranny now proceeded to Patsy’s room. The duo entered without knocking. Patsy immediately jumped to her feet and stood submissively with her arms at her sides.
“Alright, Maidenly,” Miss Frobisher commanded, “get your skirt and underpants off!” Patsy’s eyes grew wide with fear and her pretty mouth opened in shock. She stood paralyzed. Miss Frobisher stepped up to the girl and gave her two hard slaps in the face. Patsy burst into tears but the slaps had the desired effect of galvanizing the now sobbing girl into action.
The next stop was Lorna Jane’s bedroom where Miss Frobisher issued the same curt order. “P- Please…m-madam,” Lorna Jane stammered haplessly. “I-I h-haven’t done anything w-wrong.”
“Let me correct you there, Welworthy,” Miss Frobisher spoke in her most didactic tone of voice. “Failure to immediately obey the command of a superior at Birchwell is wrong. It is very, VERY wrong. And it is, of course, very strictly punished.”
Well before Miss Frobisher had concluded her little speech, Lorna Jane was desperately undoing the hook and eye and zipper fastenings at the side of her skirt and squirming out of the revealingly tight garment. Her little flowered panties followed promptly. After a long and humiliating march, Lorna Jane and Patsy found themselves in the ante-room with Shirley and Marie.
“If you trollops so much as whisper to one another, you’ll wear the rubber ball gags for six hours!” Miss Frobisher warned direly.
Mrs. Cranny, following Agatha Webster’s orders, now used safety pins to attach the number “1” to the back of Lorna Jane’s tight, short-sleeved sweater. Patsy was outfitted with the number “2”.
Task complete, Mrs. Cranny now seated herself on the sturdy, armless wooden chair that was the sole item of furniture in the ante-room. She pointed at Lorna Jane and spoke in a motherly tone of voice: “Get over my knee, young lady. You’re going to be one of the participants in a spanked girls contest and we have to give the judges something to look at!”
Lorna Jane squealed and sobbed very convincingly as a dozen smacks from Mrs. Cranny’s hard palm turned her succulent bottom and the backs of her upper thighs – where they were bare above her stockings tops – a delightfully vibrant shade of pink. Then pretty Patsy’s posterior pulchritude received the same treatment. Finally, the already well-smacked Shirley and Marie were ordered to remove their bikini bottoms. All four girls were now prepared to parade!
Miss Frobisher glanced at her watch. The time passed in silence except for the sniffling of the unhappy girls. Then Miss Frobisher announced, “It’s time”, and opened the door to The Ballroom. The girls were ushered in single file: Lorna Jane, Patsy, Marie and Shirley.
Peters, Birchwell’s groundsman, had been enlisted to install a long, narrow wooden walkway that practically ran the entire sixty feet of the Ballroom’s length. Beside this walkway, at about the mid-point, an imposing rectangular table had been positioned. Behind this table sat the judges: Mr. Justice Bleary, Agatha Webster, and Lady Leechmore. Basil Warpington hovered in the background, his camera at the ready.
Miss Webster rang a bell and announced in a commanding voice, “Let the Miss Spanked Teenager Contest begin!”
Miss Frobisher hissed in Lorna Jane’s shell pink ear, “Get up on that walkway, Welworthy, and parade the full length back and forth until you are told to stop!” She punctuated her command with a smart smack to Lorna Jane’s lower right buttock. The girl emitted a poignant squeal of pain and shame and promptly scampered up the three steps to the elevated walk-way.
Tears dripping from her quivering chin, Lorna Jane began to walk – her arms haplessly at her sides, as directed, to provide an unrestricted view of her delectable frontal and nether nudity.
Lady Leechmore’s cold eyes fixed on Lorna Jane’s undulating, vibrantly pink bum. She emitted a low hiss of disgust at the mildness of the spanking. In the high-born woman’s opinion, Lorna Jane should have received the tawse – at minimum, a 36-stroke appointment between supple Scottish leather and girlishly plump American curves!
As for poor Lorna Jane, the girl’s tear-wet facial cheeks were redder than her bottom as her clicking spike heels transported down the walkway and back.
“Back and forth again, girly,” Mr. Justice Bleary commanded, leaning forward so as to miss nothing of the delightful scene. Meanwhile, Basil Warpington – a notable bulge at the front of his trousers – jumped around in the background, photographing the proceedings from every angle.
All of the girls were required to complete six back and forth tours. Then they were ordered to stand side by side, their bare spanked buttocks presented to the judges while the latter conferred.
At long last, Mr. Justice Bleary made his pronouncement. “Harumph! I decree two first prize winners – number 3 and number 4.” Marie and Shirley, who wore those numbers, squirmed visibly.
“Oh, my,” Miss Webster exclaimed in an ingenuous tone of voice that was utterly false. “Whatever are we to do?”
“Why they shall both have first prize!” declared Justice Bleary. “A ten stroke caning!” Marie and Shirley gasped audibly, their shapely knees almost buckling.
To their enormous relief, both Lorna Jane and Patsy were permitted to return to their rooms. Shirley and Marie were marched to the Caning Chamber for their execution!
In the Caning Chamber, a sobbing, almost fainting Shirley was required to watch as Marie hysterically cried and wriggled her way through a caning that testified to Miss Webster’s disciplinary expertise. Then it was Shirley’s turn to be secured to the Caning Chair. “P-p-please, M-Madam…” she blubbered haplessly.
“You are quite welcome, girl,” Miss Webster replied in an icy tone.
Shirley’s soprano screams were music to Basil Warpington’s ears as he diligently documented the strict correction with his 35mm Leica camera.
After their strict canings, poor Shirley and Marie – sobbing as if their teenage hearts would break – were required to put their bikini bottoms back on and pull the skimpy garments into their deep gluteal divides so that the stripes on their bare buttocks would be fully visible.
Then, Basil Warpington took another series of photographs which would be sent to the editor of The Brighton Bugle with an accompanying story entitled “Curvaceous Contest Cuties Correctively Caned!” The reason for replacing the bikini bottoms was that, back in 1962, even the sleaziest British tabloid had to observe certain rules about nudity. Ironically, a girl’s bare bottom cheeks could be shown when they were the result of a ridden-up or pulled-up panty or bikini bottom. As far as poor Shirley and Marie were concerned, the end result (no pun intended!) was total public humiliation!
Chapter 7: Dinner Duty
Agatha Webster, the imperious woman who was charged with the education of American girls Lorna Jane Welworthy and Patricia Maidenly at her well appointed Sussex estate Birchwell, brooked no insubordination. The year was 1962, and as readers of the June issue of this magazine know, Miss Webster’s hapless maids – Shirley Doolittle and Marie Costermonger – were very strictly disciplined for their Miss Brighton Bikini Context escapade.
After the “Miss Spanked Teenager” festivities were concluded, Agatha Webster invited her distinguished guests to remain for dinner. In an act that reflected her kindly side, she decided that she would relieve Shirley and Marie of their maiding duties until the next day. Instead, lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy would serve for “dinner duty.”
To make the event more interesting, Lorna Jane and Patsy were required to wear black bras, diminutive black g-string panties, black satin-elastic garter belts, sheer charcoal-hued nylon stockings, and glossy white patent leather pumps with high spike heels. Their only other articles of attire consisted of white maid’s caps, tiny white aprons, and little white gloves.
The dinner was held in Birchwell’s opulently appointed, candlelit dining hall. Lorna Jane and Patsy hovered and scurried, desperately anxious not to incur anyone’s displeasure. Their work was rendered more difficult by Mr. Justice Bleary’s well developed proclivity for bottom-pinching. By the time the second course was finished, the pale, girlishly plump flesh of Lorna Jane and Patsy’s g-string bared bottoms bore the reddish residue of many a juicy, judicial pinch. Once, when she squealed just a little too energetically, poor Patsy received a cold glare from Miss Webster that made the hapless girl fear for her precious posterior!
As the meal proceeded, Mr. Justice Bleary snapped his fingers in Patsy’s direction and ordered a condiment not present on the table. Not knowing the location of the item, Patsy desperately whispered to Lorna Jane. Unhappily for poor Lorna Jane, she whispered back.
“Silence!” Justice Bleary thundered, as if he were in his vaulted courtroom.
Miss Webster glared with cold menace at a trembling Patsy and a quivering Lorna Jane. “Go to Cook immediately and ask her to insert the gags,” she directed with icy authority. The girls fled from the room, spike heels clicking. When they returned, in just under five minutes, their pretty mouths were distended by uncomfortable looking red rubber ball gags that had been securely strapped in place.
At one point, Patsy raised her soft hand to the gag strap that was cutting into her girlishly soft cheek. “Keep your hand away from that gag, Maidenly,” Agatha Webster commanded icily, “or I’ll make you wish you hadn’t been born with a bottom!”
After dinner and Lorna Jane and Patsy had completed their clearing away duties, the still-gagged girls were marched to the library by Mrs. Cranny, the cook, and Miss Frobisher, Miss Webster’s iron-willed assistant.
An exceedingly brief trial ensued. Mr. Justice Bleary observed, with the obviously fulsome approval of his companions, that the girls had violated the cardinal rule that “serving wenches are to be seen and not heard!” He went on to comment that when members of society’s elite are gathered at the dinner table to discuss matters of national importance, “interruption by the whispering or tittering of foolish maids will not be tolerated!”
“As instigator of this disgraceful breach you, Maidenly, are herewith sentenced to a nine stroke caning on those shapely bare buttocks of yours. You, Welworthy, are slightly less culpable. I therefore decree that your Mistress, Miss Agatha Webster, shall employ her own excellent judgement to devise for you an appropriate penalty, said penalty to be executed tomorrow at a time she finds convenient. You will also be required to witness Maidenly’s correction!”
Their eyes filled with tears, Lorna Jane and Patsy uttered poignant “mmmpphhggg’s” in response to His Lordship’s stern words. Both girls were then marched to the Caning Chamber.
Poor Patsy – divested of her tiny apron and little white gloves – was secured to the Caning Chair. “Don’t fret, dear,” Miss Frobisher counseled as she tightened the retraining straps. “I’ll remove the gag momentarily and then you can scream, sob, and plead as much as you like while you’re getting your caning.”
As for screaming, sobbing, and pleading, Patsy did not disappoint as Miss Webster carried out her Executioner’s duties. As was her practice with nine stroke canings, the middle aged matron administered six to Patsy’s succulent buttocks, the remaining three to the backs of the girl’s ripely rounded thighs – where they were bare above her stocking tops
Half way through Patsy’s execution, Lorna Jane required the smelling salts, which Miss Frobisher gleefully administered while cook held the sobbing, terrified girl in a grip of iron.
When Patsy’s caning was finally concluded, the girl was once again gagged and her wrists snugly bound behind her back. She was then required to stand on a small stool in The Caning Chamber, whereupon her shapely ankles were tightly trussed. Basil Warpington proceeded to photograph the tearful, hapless girl from various angles. The results of his handiwork would illustrate an article entitled “Caning Correction for Naughty Maid” which Miss Webster planned to present in the very next issue of her publication, The English Gentlewoman’s Guide to Domestic Discipline.
Lorna Jane Gets the Point
Agatha Webster and the Duchess Helene de la Lotbiniere had been friends for many years. Both were of the same age. During the dark days of the Second World War, Duchess Helene had courageously served in the French Resistance as a key member of a group dedicated to dynamiting Nazi supply trains. Clad in a jaunty beret and a pair of working man’s overalls, the beautiful, then-young woman packed a Colt .45 automatic and knew how to use it! After the war, she was decorated with the Croix de Guerre and took over the management of the palatial family estate at Fontainbleau, where she had entertained her dear friend on numerous occasions.
On one of Miss Webster’s visits, Duchess Helene displayed “la chaise clouté” – in English, “the studded chair.” The aristocratic woman had commented, “Ah, ma chere Agatha, I had it custom-fabricated so that deficient maids might – as I believe you English put it, ‘get the point’! It works wonders on girlishly well-developed French bottoms. Might you find use for such a device at Birchwell?”
Agatha Webster had enthusiastically responded “Yes, indeed!” A month later, the packing crate arrived at Birchwell.
These thoughts passed through Miss Webster’s mind as she sat in her impressive library. The chair had most certainly helped Shirley and Marie to “get the point” on more than one occasion. Now it was time for a girlishly plump, succulently shapely American behind to discover the experience. The imperious matron pressed an intercom button on her desk to summon Miss Frobisher.
Miss Webster’s appointments that particular day included a private lunch with Sir Nigel Portwine, KCMG. (The abbreviation stands for the high honor of Knight Commander of the Mauve Garter. One wag had suggested that it stood for “Kindly Call Me God”!) Sir Nigel, who had held senior ambassador posts for the Foreign Office, now served as Confidential Counsel to the highest levels of government. The tall, patrician, and monocle-wearing nobleman had been one of Agatha Webster’s close friends for many years.
Sir Nigel’s chauffeured Bentley arrived at Birchwell on the stroke of half past noon. With great courtesy, Samuels – the Butler – ushered the distinguished guest into the main Drawing Room, where he was warmly greeted by his hostess. Maid Shirley obsequiously approached with a Georgian silver tray bearing two flutes of vintage Perrier Jouet Champagne. Maid Marie hovered in the background with her silver tray of Beluga Caviar canapes.
“I say, Agatha, dear,” Sir Nigel spoke in the languid drawl of one who had taken a first in Greats at Oxford University, “Birchwell looks in jolly good tick.”
“You are too, kind, Nigel,” Miss Webster responded with a warm smile. “It’s such a lovely day. Shall we stroll out to the terrace?”
The massive terrace enjoyed the seclusion of a high stone wall. Low stone pillars provided foundations for neo-classical planters filled with the exquisitely flowering plants of an English summer. The other decoration of particular note was provided by Lorna Jane. The girl wore only her maid’s cap and a pair of glossy black, spike-heeled pumps. Her wrists were tied to the upper rail of the chair back while her ankles were secured to the bottom of the chair’s back legs with steel manacles. Tears trickled down her shame-red, ball-gagged face.
Lorna Jane’s ripely rounded rear was arched in the air, revealing the wicked metal points she was so anxious to avoid contact with. The studs were designed to ensure that they could cause no serious damage but, unquestionably, they would be most uncomfortable to sit upon.
Unfortunately, she could only arch her bottom so far in the air. A leather strap, snugly buckled around her shapely waist, was attached to the front of the chair by means of a metal chain that ran – between her gluteal divide – to the front of the chair. Nor could she stand up. Heavy lead balls chained to the front legs of the chair precluded that possibility. One can well imagine the strain on the hapless girl’s full but shapely legs!
“She spoke out of turn at dinner last evening,” Agatha Webster blandly observed. “Lord Justice Bleary was most annoyed.”
“I should jolly well think so,” Sir Nigel observed with a faint but amused smile.
“Shall we go into lunch and leave our naughty maid to her reflections?” the woman now suggested.
“A capital idea,” Sir Nigel responded. “I have some interesting news from Whitehall.”
* * *
Some may feel that Shirley, Marie, Lorna Jane, and Patsy were rather strictly treated. But let us consider the facts.
Shirley and Marie did a very naughty thing by publicly parading their pulchritude in skimpy bikini-style bathing suits, as documented in the last episode. Among other things, they brought discredit to one of Merrie England’s great country estates. Miss Webster would have been entirely within her rights to discharge the girls without a reference. One can imagine the bleak future they would have faced under those circumstances! After their strict but totally appropriate correctional canings, the girls had unquestionably learned an unforgettable lesson and would never again commit such a naughty prank.
As for Lorna Jane and Patsy, both girls had been most carefully instructed by Mrs. Cranny, Birchwell’s esteemed cook, about appropriate behavior for maidservants. In addition, they had the further benefit of two weeks experience in servitude at Birchwell during Shirley and Marie’s absence. Both Lorna Jane and Patsy were fully familiar with the cardinal rule that maidservants on duty speak only when spoken to. Patsy was an exceedingly silly girl when she whispered her query to Lorna Jane. Instead, she should have immediately scampered into the kitchen, obtained the ordered condiment from Mrs. Cranny, and returned to humbly present it – on a silver tray – to Mr. Justice Bleary. Lorna Jane was equally foolish to open her sweetly kissable lips in a whispered reply. In doing so, she condemned her ripely rounded bare behind to a strict and totally deserved correction!
Chapter 8: Uncontrollable Urges
As regular readers of this series know, the distinguished Miss Agatha Webster was undertaking the education and “finishing” of two American girls: her niece, lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy, and a friend’s daughter, pretty Patsy Maidenly. The year was 1962, and both girls were kept extremely busy at Birchwell, Miss Webster’s large Sussex estate, learning their lessons and carrying out all the other duties that were assigned by Miss Webster or her imperious assistant, Miss Frobisher.
Of course, a big, healthy, and highly attractive girl like Lorna Jane had certain natural urges – which back in America she had been able to ecstatically consummate with her adoring boyfriend, Rod Long. But at Birchwell, it was a different story.
As for Rod, he faithfully wrote Lorna Jane a lengthy airmail letter every week. As might be expected, a handsome, athletic, and scholastically outstanding lad like Rod would be a great “catch” for any girl. Not a few had intimated that if he asked them out for a date, their answer would be an enthusiastic “yes!”
To his great credit, the highly principled young man remained totally faithful to Lorna Jane and missed her greatly. He yearningly remembered many things about Lorna Jane – in particular their final date before the girl left for Merrie England! A tightly-girdled Lorna Jane had used her pretty mouth in a naughty way which resulted in young Rod fearing he would faint from ecstasy!
Rod’s letters to Lorna Jane were first opened and read by her aunt. As for the girl’s replies, these were also read by Miss Webster before they were sent and, very frequently, the good woman provided her lovely charge with guidance on what to write in her letters home. Lorna Jane’s most recent missive to Rod provides an interesting example:
Dearest Rod,
Golly, Rod dearest, I miss you ever so much! But here at Birchwell I’m learning so many wonderful and useful things about etiquette, polite society, domestic household management and many other things as well! I am ever so grateful to my Maiden Aunty, Miss Agatha Webster, and her personal assistant, Miss Frobisher, for everything they are teaching me.
I do my very best to learn all my lessons but sometimes my performance is deficient and then I have to be disciplined! Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher have many strict and unique ways of punishing a naughty girl, but I just have to admit that I have never received a correction that I didn’t thoroughly deserve! Every time I am corrected, I double my resolve to be the bestest girl ever so I won’t have to be disciplined again!
I am so happy, Rod dearest, that your first year of legal studies is going so well. I just know you will make an ever so successful attorney! And when I have finished learning all my lessons at Birchwell, and return home, I will have many advantages that many girls unfortunately do not have the opportunity to acquire.
Last evening, Miss Webster had a dinner party for some of her friends who are all great leaders in the English society. Patsy and I were allowed to sit at the table in the Grand Dining Hall at Birchwell. We were surely on our very best behavior and only spoke when spoken to! It is a great privilege for a young girl like me to have the opportunity to meet such distinguished people and I am deeply grateful to both my mother and my Aunty, Miss Webster!
I must close now, Rod dearest, because I have ever so much studying to do for a test on etiquette tomorrow and I surely want to do well so I won’t have to bear the humiliation and discomfort of being disciplined on my you-know-what!
With all my love and affection, Lorna Jane
When Rod received this letter, he was of course terribly happy to hear from Lorna Jane, who he loved and cherished. He reflected on how Lorna Jane’s “finishing school” experience would make her a wonderful wife for a young attorney embarking on a promising career. The lad also made several readings of the paragraphs in which Lorna Jane referred to “being disciplined” and, truth to tell, became quite excited as his fertile mind imagined what might be happening to his delectable darling.
In her letters to her mother, Agatha Webster required Lorna Jane to go into rather more detail about her achievements, her errors, and her corrections. When Mrs. Welworthy read about the latter, she naturally felt regret that her darling daughter was – from time to time – experiencing some discomfort. However, wise and experienced woman that she was, she well understood that the pathway to learning and becoming a properly brought up young lady is a pathway that is illuminated by strict but loving discipline.
Indeed, Mrs. Welworthy never felt closer or more loving toward Lorna Jane than when she had the girl bare bottomed over her capable knee, holding her close in a firm but motherly grip. And, when Mr. Hairbrush did his work, Lorna Jane’s poignant sobs, squeals, pleas, and promises made the girl – despite her grown-up nylon stockings and spike-heeled pumps – seem like a large, naughty child in need of love and strict guidance!
And how did Lorna Jane feel about all this? At Birchwell, in the warm privacy of her own bed – frequently wearing only the tops of her baby doll pj’s – the girl often thought about her dates with her beloved boyfriend, Rod Long. Her recollections of his sturdy member, standing hard and gleaming in the moonlight, caused her plumply pink vulval lips to twitch and moisten and her soft, naughty fingers to stray.
Interestingly enough, the girl had the same reaction when she recalled her “Judicial Review” with Mr. Justice Roderick Pimm-Lansing – the strict but wise jurist who had consigned Lorna Jane and her friend Kathy Ann Goodchild to the Greystone Reformatory for Naughty Girls. In particular, Lorna Jane became very excited and moist when she recalled groveling on her lovely nyloned knees in front of the great man, showing her extended and humble respect for the Ultimate Symbol of his judicial authority.
Strangely enough, Lorna Jane experienced similar sensations – combined with a delicious fear – when she was alone bare bottomed in the Spanking Room with an older female disciplinarian. In this situation her lovely eyes were also fastened on something hard and gleaming – namely the glossy black, oval shaped hairbrush that would warm her succulently rounded rear and alleviate her guilt over having been naughty!
Girdle Bound
One Saturday morning at Birchwell, as a result of over-sleeping, both Lorna Jane and Patsy realized that they were going to be late for a special lesson on “Afternoon Garden Parties” which was to be taught by Miss Frobisher. Rapidly, the girls performed their ablutions, dressed, and then raced off to the classroom. In their haste, Lorna Jane bumped into Patsy in the hallway, causing the latter to stumble and fall on her pretty posterior, emitting a high pitched “eeeeeeek!” in the process.
Unfortunately, Miss Frobisher was just coming up the hallway to see where the girls were and, of course, witnessed the entire scene. Lorna Jane and Patsy soon found themselves trembling before Agatha Webster’s imposing desk while Miss Frobisher gave a detailed report.
“Properly brought up young ladies never engage in unseemly haste,” the refined woman observed judiciously. “Proper carriage is always required. Take these two to the classroom, Miss Frobisher, and teach them their Afternoon Garden Party lessons and then, after luncheon, bring them back to the Library – at which time I shall impose an appropriate penalty.”
Not wanting to make an already bad situation worse, Lorna Jane and Patsy studied the Afternoon Garden Party material most energetically and were able to answer Miss Frobisher’s pointed questions to the latter’s grudging approval.
After luncheon, Lorna Jane and Patsy were escorted to their bedrooms by Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher. While Patsy waited apprehensively in her room, the two older women attended to Lorna Jane first. The frightened girl was ordered to strip to her bra, panties, garter belt, sheer nylon hosiery, and spike-heeled pumps. Then she was required to remove her garter belt and replace it with her tightest, off-white girdle. Miss Frobisher then produced some rope and deftly bound Lorna Jane’s wrists behind the girl’s back while Miss Webster looked on with approval.
The now crying twenty-year-old was escorted to Patsy’s bedroom where she was required to watch the hapless girl stripped, girdled, and bound in the same way. Both sniffling miscreants were now marched down two long hallways and ushered into an unused bedroom where they were ordered to lie down on the double bed. Miss Frobisher then promptly bound the girls’ shapely ankles. “Shall I gag them, madam?” she enquired of her employer.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the impressive woman replied. Both Lorna Jane and Patsy audibly gulped in gratitude. “I hope, Welworthy and Maidenly,” Miss Webster directly addressed the two bound and girdled girls, “that this little punishment will teach you not to run around in an unseemly fashion with those shapely legs of yours. If you ever do it again, the backs of your legs will feel the willow switch from underbum to ankles!”
Firmly closing the door behind them, the two women left poor Lorna Jane and Patsy to their doleful distress. Because they were not gagged, the two girls began to talk in soft, almost whispered tones.
“Oh, golly,” Lorna Jane sniffled, “this g-girdle is j-just awful….”
“Ouuuhh… so is m-mine,” Patsy responded, warm tears trickling down her soft cheeks. “T-Thank heavens they d-didn’t g-gag us!”
As time passed by, the girls began to tell each other their life stories. It helped a little to take their minds off the horrid girdles and snugly constraining ropes that bound them. Then Patsy put her pretty face very close to Lorna Jane’s. “Ohhh, I’m so fond of you,” she confided.
“I-I think you’re a wonderful person,” Lorna Jane responded. Moments later, the girls were kissing – chastely at first, and then with open mouths and flickering tongues.
As the girls’ excitement mounted, Lorna Jane squirmed around so her back was to Patsy’s front. She reached back with her bound hands and her naughty fingers found that very special part of Patsy’s delicious anatomy.
“Ouuuuuhhhuhhhhhh….” Patsy gasped.
For the next hour the two sex-starved lovelies took turns giving each other multiple orgasms!
Hairbrush Harassment
Agatha Webster and Miss Frobisher returned to the bedroom after four hours. The bed covers were extensively rumpled from the girls’ amorous activities. In addition, their panties and girdles had ridden up so that almost the entire lower half of their succulent bottoms was deliciously bare.
Miss Webster viewed the scene with clinical detachment and then calmly addressed Lorna Jane and Patsy. “I trust you two have learned a good lesson.”
“Ohhhh, yes, m-mistress,” Lorna Jane responded in the most sincere tones imaginable. “I’ll n-never do it again, m-mistress… I promise!”
“And what about you, Maidenly?” the woman now enquired.
“Y-Yes… Ohhh, yes, mistress!” Patsy babbled. “I’ll be a g-good girl. Honest I w-will, mistress!”
“Very good,” Miss Webster smiled thinly. “I can see the two of you repent your unseemly behavior. And now, just to re-enforce the lesson, a little hairbrushing would be most appropriate. Roll over so you are lying face down.”
With poignant little whimpers, Lorna Jane and Patsy immediately obeyed the command. Their stone faced executioner then took the glossy black, oval shaped hairbrush from Miss Frobisher, who had been holding it behind her back.
For the next six minutes, Miss Webster slowly and methodically administered 30 brisk smacks to each girl, concentrating on the bottomflesh exposed by the ridden up panties and girdles and the backs of the girls’ thighs, where they were bare above their tautly suspendered stocking tops. Both Lorna Jane and Patsy squealed and sobbed very appealingly.
When it was finally over, the girls were untied, told to restore their panties and girdles to their proper positions, and then marched back to their bedrooms so they could replace their snug fitting skirts and sweaters.
“You girls will wear your girdles until bedtime,” Miss Webster decreed, knowing only too well how uncomfortably the tight garments would compress prettily spanked bottomflesh!
Lorna Jane was quite exhausted by the time she went to bed – partly from her energetic activities with pretty Patsy and partly from the day’s ordeals which had included being tied up, spanked, and required to wear a horrid girdle. Not surprisingly, the girl rapidly fell into a deep sleep.
In the course of the night, poor Lorna Jane experienced a most distressing dream. She was back at Maydith College and Miss Fairview, the instructress of the Art Appreciation Course, had ordered Lorna Jane to report to the Dean of Girls, bearing a note outlining her deficient performance.
To Lorna Jane’s horrified surprise, the Dean of Girls turned out to be none other than her Maiden Aunty, Miss Agatha Webster! Lorna Jane soon found herself trembling in front of Miss Webster’s desk while the strict-looking woman read and reread the note. Finally, she turned her attention to Lorna Jane. “Remove your skirt and panties, young lady.” The command was issued in a tone of voice that motivated the girl to obey instantaneously.
All too soon, Lorna Jane was standing in front of the desk, bare from her waist down except for her garter belt, sheer nylon stockings, and glossy black patent leather spike-heeled pumps. The girl gulped audibly and the tears that had gathered in her eyes began to flow when Miss Webster opened the upper right drawer of her desk and withdrew a pliant wooden ruler. One look at the dreadful instrument was all Lorna Jane needed to know it would sting awfully!
Miss Webster walked around from behind her desk to face Lorna Jane. “Hold out your right hand, palm up, young lady, and do not dare to move it until I so instruct!”
SMACK! The wickedly pliant ruler stung the soft hand that had so often tenderly and excitingly caressed Rod Long’s sturdy manhood. A sobbing Lorna Jane emitted a squeal of pain. Slowly and methodically, Miss Webster administered five ruler smacks to each girlishly tender hand.
While poor Lorna Jane endured the pain and humiliation of having her hands rulered like a naughty nine-year-old in grade three, her ripely rounded buttocks behaved as if they seemed to possess a mind of their own. Specifically, they quivered and spasmed most prettily while the crawling cold gooseflesh of dire dread and anguished apprehension covered their smooth, pale, girlishly plump surfaces. It was as if they knew their execution was next!
When the hand rulering was finally over, Agatha Webster gripped the crying girl by an elbow and marched her over to a solid, straight backed, armless chair and ordered Lorna Jane to get over its back. The girl obeyed at once.
Properly positioned, the hapless girl looked back over her shoulder, her tear-filled eyes wide and imploring. “P-Please, M-Mistress Dean… P-P-Please be g-gentle….”
“Eyes front, young lady!” was Agatha Webster’s coldly commanding response.
SMACK! Mr. Ruler made stinging, searing impact with the plumpest part of Lorna Jane’s provocatively projecting posterior. The girl’s anguished outcry awoke her from her dream.
It took Lorna Jane a few moments to realize where she was. Then she reached back to cup her succulently bare bottom cheeks. (Naughty girl that she was, she had worn only the tops of her baby doll pajamas to bed!) To her infinite relief, she discovered that the only sensation in her lovely bottom was a slight, residual tingling from Miss Webster’s hairbrushing.
Lorna Jane continued to cup and fondle her nubile nether curves, becoming quite excited as she did so. It was not long before soft, naughty fingers found the naughty place and Lorna Jane experienced the jolting, prolonged release of orgasmic ecstasy – a prelude to falling back into a deep, dreamless sleep!
Chapter 9: A Distressing Dream
As faithful readers will recall, matronly Miss Agatha Webster devoted the summer of 1962 to the training of her niece, lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy, and her friend’s daughter, pretty Patsy Maidenly. At Birchwell, Miss Webster’s large Sussex estate, the woman saw to it that the girls would develop into young ladies of character and authority.
Miss Webster sat behind her imposing desk in her richly panelled library at Birchwell. As usual, her morning post had been opened, sorted, and neatly stacked by Miss Frobisher. Also as usual, any missive deemed unworthy of Miss Webster’s attention had been consigned to the dustbin by her trusted personal assistant.
There was one unopened exception. It was a nine inch by twelve inch plain brown paper envelope, bearing postage of the United States of America, and addressed “Personal and Confidential” to Miss Agatha Webster, O.B.E.
Miss Webster attended to her opened correspondence first, briskly making notations for action on several items with her gold S. J. Dupont pen. Then she took up her Georgian silver letter opener, its handle bearing the initials “A. F. W.”, the “F” standing for Miss Webster’s middle name, Forsythe. She slit the brown paper envelope open and shook out the Summer 1962 issue of Discipline Digest, a Consolidated Publications production edited by Mr. Billy Hackmore, the world famous reporter and writer on matters of domestic discipline.
Taking a sip of pungent Lady Grey tea from the Royal Crown Derby cup at her right hand, the woman’s coolly intelligent eyes scanned the lead article, enticingly entitled “Affectionate Correction” by Mr. Hackmore.
The article was in large part based on a letter Mr. Hackmore had received from Mrs. Grace Barrett of Victoria, Canada. In her letter, Mrs. Barrett reported that her only child was a shapely, attractive, and raven-haired nineteen-year-old miss named April, who was ever-deferential to her strict mother.
“My darling daughter,” Mrs. Barrett observed, “is a shy and sensitive girl with a great interest in doing watercolours of flowers and writing poetry. Accordingly, I have enrolled her in Miss Simpson’s Academy for the Gentle Arts, a highly esteemed institution where April has had an opportunity to meet other girls of our social level and also acquire skills that will suit her for employment with a local company that produces greeting cards for all occasions. Mr. Bletchley, the proprietor of the firm, has seen examples of April’s work and has spoken most positively about its attributes. She has an exciting future ahead of her!
“My April is an exceptionally polite and generally well behaved girl. However, at times she can be a little forgetful about her responsibilities and a trifle ‘scatterbrained’, to use the colloquial expression. On such occasions, I summon her to my large and well-appointed bedroom for a little mother-daughter chat.
“I seat myself on a sturdy, armless chair while April stands in front of me, holding her skirt up with her arms behind her back. Naturally, at her grown-up age she is considerably embarrassed to be exposing her pretty little panties, the tautly suspendered tops of her sheer nylon stockings, and her beautifully rounded, bare upper thighs. Her sweet tears of remorse trickle slowly – but convincingly – down her shame red cheeks.
“While I lecture her on the fine points of behaviour and discipline, April’s tear-filled eyes frequently steal frightened glances at the oval-shaped, glossy black, hard-backed hairbrush that is sitting on its bristles on the small table next to my chair.”
Miss Webster looked at the illustration accompanying Mrs. Barrett’s letter. The picture had been executed by Miss Fran, a most capable illustrator of domestic discipline scenes. In her artistical depiction, she had captured that truly wonderful moment where Mrs. Barrett was lowering her darling daughter’s panties while the unhappy girl tearfully looked at the hairbrush that would soon be stinging her shapely bare buttocks!
Mrs. Barrett continued by writing, “After I have lowered April’s panties to her rounded, nyloned knees, I direct her to get over my knee. As soon as she is in position, I encircle her shapely waist with my left arm and hold her as closely as possible to ensure that she experiences a feeling of love and security. On such occasions, I experience an intense emotion of love and closeness for my darling daughter and, although she is a very well developed young lady in sheer nylon stockings and spike-heeled pumps, I think of her as my adorable little girl.
“Then I pick up my hairbrush. Although, quite understandably, April cannot help sobbing, squealing, and squirming as the hairbrush does its work, she never shrieks or kicks excessively. Also, she never tries to plead with me to lessen the punishment. To her great credit, April is a girl who understands that ‘Mother Knows Best’!
“Because of her excellent attitude, I am invariably more lenient with her. Indeed, it is not my desire to cause any bruising or blistering of my darling daughter’s delectable derriere. My policy it to spank until her bare buttocks and the backs of her thighs are a pretty shade of rosy red and her tears are flowing copiously.
“I know that, after a spanking, some mothers require their daughters to stand in the corner, holding their skirts up with their panties down. I never do this. Instead, a tearful, bare bottomed April is invited to sit on my lap with her arms around my neck while we have a nice long session of ‘kiss and make up’. The result of this is that April knows that ‘all is truly forgiven’ and that I love and care for her more than words can express. Speaking of words, it is not unusual – on such occasions – for April to whisper in my ear, ‘Ohhh, M-Mummy… I-I l-love you s-so…’
“Apart from the periodic spankings, I find the only discipline darling April requires in an occasional enema. I always precede these by taking her temperature while she lies bare bottomed on the metal enema table. I’m sure you can guess where I put the thermometer!
“I am entirely convinced that if more mothers and daughters had the type of relationship April and I have, the world would indeed be a happier place!”
The letter concluded with Mrs. Barrett’s warm regards and best wishes for the continued success of Discipline Digest. These kind sentiments elicited Mr. Hackmore’s fulsome thanks and the delightful editorial observation that he would arrange for Miss Fran to be in touch with Mrs. Barrett in order to obtain a bit more information on her enema procedures so she could prepare a charming illustration for a future edition of the magazine!
Bare Bottomed at Birchwell
Meanwhile, back at Birchwell, lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy were continuing to learn their lessons as they were prepared for the demands of being “perfect young ladies in polite society.”
Yesterday, the two girls had written a three hour exam on the niceties of etiquette and “appropriate manners for all occasions.” The passing mark had been set at 70 percent. (It was Miss Webster’s practice to vary the passing mark depending on the subject material and how far the girls had advanced in their studies of a particular area.) Lorna Jane, to her enormous relief, managed a 74. Poor Patsy came in just under the bar at 68. In an act of leniency, Miss Webster allowed the punishment cane – Mr. Bendy – to remain on his hook and instead sentenced pretty Patsy’s girlishly plump posterior to a strict bare bottom ruler smacking in “The Classroom.”
As soon as Miss Webster had finished with her mail and – in particular – her reading of Discipline Digest, she walked down to “The Classroom” and was pleased to see that – under Miss Frobisher’s beady-eyed supervision – the two girls were busily memorizing passages from Prunella Chiswick’s learned text on afternoon tea parties. Both girls were concentrating just as hard as they could with good reason! Later that afternoon – in the Conservatory Tea Room at Birchwell – a full “dress rehearsal” would be held, the cast comprising Miss Webster, Miss Frobisher, Lorna Jane, and Patsy.
And, indeed, later that afternoon the quartet were seated at the attractively-laid tea table. Lorna Jane and Patsy looked quite lovely in their pretty, form-fitting suits, complimented by sheer tan nylons, white “pill-box” hats, little white gloves, and matching glossy white patent pumps with high spike heels. The two maids, Shirley and Marie (understandably on their very best behavior!) hovered obediently in the background, ready to serve with humble alacrity!
The only slightly odd notes were that Basil Warpington, also hovered in the background, snapping photographs and Mr. Bendy, glowing in the late afternoon sunshine, rested on a chair over by the wall.
Although the tea and cakes were delicious, Lorna Jane and Patsy were much too apprehensive to appreciate the treats. They were only too well aware that they were being closely appraised for their table manners, their knowledge of the English afternoon tea ritual, their ability to make light conversation, and much else! Also, the two girls found the presence of Mr. Warpington and Mr. Bendy most disconcerting. Indeed, they had little difficulty imagining what might happen!
Fortunately, for lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy, nothing did. Their performance was judged satisfactory and Miss Webster then announced that both girls would be permitted to attend a late supper party to be held in Birchwell’s Grand Dining Hall. The guests would include His Lordship, Justice Bleary and The Reverend Goodsoul, the village vicar. Mr. Warpington and the inevitable Miss Frobisher would also be in attendance.
Patsy was seated next to Basil Warpington, who made the poor girl squirm and blush with his frequent and pointed questions about her life in Indiana and whether or not “her boyfriend” had perhaps taken photographs of her.
As for Lorna Jane, she was seated next to The Reverend Goodsoul who, between giggles and titters, asked the girl about “her lad back home” and counseled her on the many benefits of mortification of the flesh – especially when that flesh was as succulent and shapely as Lorna Jane’s!
His Lordship Justice Bleary drained a glass of vintage claret and uttered a sonorous “Harumphh!”, a clear signal that he was about to speak. All fell silent as, for the next hour, The Learned Justice – whose knowledge of English judicial history was encyclopedic – regaled the table with details of a number of, shall we say, particularly “lurid” cases. He even reached back to the olden times when pirates roamed the seven seas and those who were captured by The Royal Navy were returned to Merrie England for swift and sure justice!
Walking the Plank
By the time Lorna Jane was ready to undress, perform her ablutions, and go to bed, the poor girl was utterly exhausted. Naughtily putting on only the top part of her baby doll pajamas, the girl slipped under the crisp, fresh sheets that adorned her comfortable bed and promptly fell asleep.
About two hours after slipping into the arms of Morpheus, Lorna Jane began a strange dream in which she was a shapely, attractive sailorette aboard the HMS Bluebell, a small, sail-powered vessel whose crew of pretty young girls, gently guided by the kindly Captain Claire, visited tropical isles to gather specimens of pretty flowers.
Suddenly, the pleasant dream turned into a nightmare! A large, dark-hued sailing ship – sporting the dreaded Jolly Roger – appeared on the horizon and soon overtook the Bluebell! Within short order, the strict-looking lady pirates had boarded the Bluebell and began to tie up their hapless young captives.
Lorna Jane was aghast to discover that the Pirate Captain was none other than her Aunty, Miss Webster, clad in full piratical regalia! After the Bluebell’s meagre treasure had been looted, Pirate Captain Agatha Webster turned to her tearful niece and commanded, “You shall walk the plank, my beauty!”
Poor Lorna Jane found herself wearing only her perky little sailorette cap, tight red and white striped top, and spike-heeled pumps. Her wrists tied behind her back, the frightened girl was made to stand on a sturdy length of plank that terminated over the open, shark-infested ocean.
“Start walking, dear,” Captain Agatha ordered in a no-nonsense tone of voice.
“Ouuhhh, M-Mistress C-Captain,” a tearful Lorna Jane implored, “M-Must I?”
“Yes, dear.” Captain Agatha was pleasant but insistent. “You must.”
Lorna Jane began to take tiny, reluctant little spike-heeled steps that caused her girlishly plump bare buttocks to jiggle and sway most appealingly. At the end of the plank, Lorna Jane froze, squealing out “Ouuuhhhh, n-no… P-Pleeeeeease, no!”
“Dive in, dear,” Captain Agatha directed with a chuckle, punctuating the command with two quick flicks of her rapier that marked a red “X” on Lorna Jane’s juicy left buttock. With a desperate shriek, the girl fell forward!
Lorna Jane awoke in a cold sweat, aware of a sharp pain in her lovely left buttock. A spring from the mattress has pierced the padded cover and found its delectable target!
The girl’s shrill outcry awakened Miss Frobisher, whose private suite was just down the hall. The older woman arrived almost immediately, clad in her neck to toe flannel nightgown and slippers.
Happily, Lorna Jane’s wound was minor and Miss Frobisher quickly set it right with some stinging alcohol and a band-aid. Then the older woman escorted Lorna Jane – who was wearing only her baby doll pajama tops and spike-heeled fluffy slippers – to her private quarters and, taking her charge to bed, enveloped the girl in a motherly hug. “There, there, dear,” Miss Frobisher’s tone was kindly and comforting. “You’ve just had a bad dream.”
Comforted and reassured, Lorna Jane soon fell asleep again. Despite her numerous frightening attributes, her Aunty Agatha was not the Dreaded Pirate Queen of the Sea! Finally, Lorna Jane was exempted from all forms of “bottom justice” until her succulent posterior had been restored to pristine, peerless perfection – something that did not take very long, alas!Chapter 10: Darling Daughter’s Discipline
Readers of the prior episode of this series will recall the excerpts presented from the Summer 1962 issue of Discipline Digest, a Consolidated Publishing production edited by Billy Hackmore, the world famous reporter and writer on domestic discipline matters. The specific story was based on a most interesting letter from Mrs. Grace Barrett of Victoria, Canada, in which she described the strict but loving disciplinary practices she used with her nineteen-year-old daughter, April – a shy, sensitive, and quite lovely girl.
In the concluding section of her letter, Mrs. Barrett observed, “Apart from the periodic spankings, I find the only discipline darling April requires is an occasional enema.”
Mr. Hackmore, not surprisingly, received letters of appreciation and commendation from mothers across the United States and Canada for his having presented such a morally uplifting tale. Many of these mothers also expressed great interest in learning more about the “additional” disciplinary practices Mrs. Barrett had only hinted at. An editor as experienced and astute as Billy Hackmore was not about to miss a golden opportunity for a fascinating follow-up piece.
Accordingly, he telephoned Miss Fran, who had produced the illustration for the original story, and enquired if she might be interested in contacting Mrs. Barrett with the end in view (no pun intended!) of doing another illustration of dear April and also gathering some additional information for a further story.
As luck would have it, the freelance illustrator was planning a business trip to Seattle, Washington which was only a short additional airplane trip from Victoria, Canada. Miss Fran, an attractive and accomplished woman in her late thirties, contacted Mrs. Barrett by telephone and rapidly established a cordial rapport. A visit to the Barrett home in Victoria was quickly arranged and resulted in another illustration and story destined for the Fall edition of Discipline Digest.
Billy Hackmore entitled the piece “Darling Daughter’s Discipline” and, in his introductory remarks, said he was presenting the article with “a tip of the Hackmore hat to Miss Fran, superb illustrator and whiz reporter!”
In the article, Mrs. Barrett observed, “When I decide that it would be helpful or necessary that my darling daughter April be subjected to an enema, I always precede the treatment with a sound, bare-bottom hairbrush spanking.
“Then I march my sobbing daughter to the third floor bathroom. Typically, the girl is wearing only a snug fitting, short-sleeved sweater and bra above her waist and, below the waist, her garter belt, sheer nylon stockings, and spike-heeled pumps.
“The bathroom in question is quite large and equipped with a long, rather narrow white metal table that I require April to lie on – face down, of course! I always take April’s temperature before administering the enema and, after applying a light coating of Vaseline to Mr. Thermometer’s ‘business end,’ I gently introduce him into April’s girlishly plump, freshly spanked bottom.
“Naturally, as a big girl in nylons and high heels, April finds this procedure quite humiliating. However, she has also confided to me that it makes her feel like a child who is truly loved and cared for.
“After he has had five minutes thoroughly enjoying the delightful hospitality of April’s nubile nether portions, I withdraw Mr. Thermometer, read him, wipe him off, and then return him to his home – an alcohol filled glass in the medicine cupboard. Then I put on my rubber glove and once again taking up the tube of Vaseline, I proceed to give April’s ‘inner bottom’ a gentle but lengthy lubrication.
“I then prepare a glass pitcher with sixteen ounces of lukewarm water and proceed to add two level tablespoons of Ivory Snow soap flakes (renown for their gentle purity) and stir the mixture until a milky consistency has been achieved.
“Dear April always whimpers and gasps very prettily when Mr. Nozzle (with his attached red rubber tube and plastic funnel) is inserted. I usually pat her well-spanked bottom gently and tell her not to fret so and to keep her gluteal muscles nicely relaxed.”
Present for the Procedure
As it happens, Miss Fran was present during the procedure – which took some time because Mrs. Barrett kept pausing during her administration of the enema to discuss various fine points of discipline and behavior with her darling daughter. When the last of the solution had finally been delivered to its destination, Mrs. Barrett removed the nozzle and proceeded to insert a professionally designed red rubber retention plug in her delectable daughter’s delicious derriere.
Then Mrs. Barrett and Miss Fran left a tearful and squirmy April to her no doubt repentant thoughts and proceeded to the attractively-appointed living room to enjoy a cup of tea and a slice of a delicious cake April had baked the day before to show her appreciation of Miss Fran’s visit.
After about half an hour, Mrs. Barrett glanced at her watch and pleasantly asked to be excused so she might go and “attend to her daughter’s needs.” Miss Fran smiled cordially at the departing woman and then occupied herself with refining the rough sketch she had prepared while she was in the third floor bathroom. She had found April an excellent subject and reflected on how enjoyable it would be to sketch the girl in a number of other situations – which Miss Fran’s fertile mind was already contemplating!
After about 20 minutes, Mrs. Barrett reappeared, this time accompanied by her daughter April. Although the girl had managed to stop crying, her cheeks were scarlet with humiliation and she was hanging her pretty head in shame. One of the reasons for the girl’s state was immediately obvious. Below the waist, apart from her off-white elastic garter belt, sheer, tan-hued nylon stockings, and glossy black patent leather spike-heeled pumps, she was wearing only a pair of absolutely skin-fitting glossy black rubber panties.
“I always have April wear a pair of these panties after an enema session,” Mrs. Barrett explained pleasantly. “Four pairs of them were kindly supplied to me by a lady friend at the bridge club. She has a sister who works as a matron at the Wilkie Road Home for Delinquent Girls.”
“How delightful,” Miss Fran responded, a cool smile animating her attractive features. “They match her pumps perfectly. Very fashionable.”
“I always want April to look her best, regardless of the circumstances,” Mrs. Barrett observed sagely. “I do not hold with these ‘sloppy joe’ sweaters and blue jeans. Why, I once gave April an after-church spanking when she was still wearing her hat and gloves!” Mrs. Barrett added with a good-natured chuckle.
“Your daughter is an excellent subject,” Miss Fran observed lightly. “I wonder if I might do a little sketch of her modeling her special panties?”
Certainly, Mrs. Barrett responded enthusiastically, telling her daughter that it was such a nice compliment. “I thought I’d do a rear view,” Miss Fran continued. “She should be looking back over her shoulder, legs held closely together, the left one bent slightly at the knee.”
“Very good,” Mr. Barrett responded. “April, assume that position. Now, please.”
Reluctantly but obediently, April complied, the tears slowly trickling down her shame red cheeks. Miss Fran whipped out her sketchbook and began to work with quick, confident strokes. She enquired pleasantly of Mrs. Barrett if April had a boyfriend.
“Oh, yes indeed. A nice, quiet, bespectacled young man,” her mother replied. “He’s completing his studies at college to become a reference librarian. His name is Herbert Goodenough.”
“Perhaps we should send Herbert a copy of this illustration when it’s finished,” Miss Fran suggested with a smile. Mrs. Barrett gave a merry chortle while a shuddering April stifled a poignant gasp of horror!
Dungeon Damsels’ Dire Distress
The roots of corporal punishment run deep in English society. Examples abound. On the literary side, the Nineteenth Century figure, “Colonel Spanker” presented his prolific writings at the Society of Aristocratic Flagellants. On the public activism side, Eric Wildman, Esquire, did yeoman work in the 1950s as President of the National Society for the Retention of Corporal Punishment and the Corpun Educational Association.
And, as readers of the Birchwell Saga will have divined, these roots run most deeply in the privileged classes of that Sceptered Isle. Basil Warpington is an excellent example. As eldest son of Sir Trevor Warpington – a hereditary peer – he would in the fullness of time inherit his father’s elevated title. Until that day, he pursued a pleasant life ensured by his substantial trust fund, his activities as a noted society photographer, and his “special photographic projects” for his “very special clients” – persons who occupied positions of wealth and high responsibility.
Indeed, as we will recall, Miss Webster had permitted Basil to take photographs of lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy during the “Miss Spanked Teenager” event – her only condition being that he would place a black bar over their eyes to conceal their identity, not that two innocents from abroad would likely mean anything to Warpington’s high born clientele!
As it happens, some months earlier, a titled woman of considerable means approached Mr. Warpington with an interesting proposition. Specifically, she was prepared to do two things. The first of these was to provide the funds necessary to produce a 16mm film that would deal with the cautionary tale of two shapely and attractive small town English girls coming to London in the naive hope of embarking on cinema careers. Alas, the girls would quickly fall under the influence of the wrong sort of company (wicked “Teddy Boys”, to be specific) and soon find themselves on the wrong side of the law. The second offer the titled woman made was the use of her large country house, the lowermost level of which was equipped with a most convincing dungeon!
Needless to say, Mr. Warpington enthusiastically accepted the proposal and started to investigate possibilities for how best to proceed by consulting with his contacts in London’s infamous Soho district. It wasn’t long before he located two pretty and exceptionally shapely nineteen-year-old girls: one Dawn Grayson and one Annie Walker. When not supporting themselves with copy typing and waitress jobs, the two lassies were posing for “glamour magazines” in the hope that their appealing assets would come to the attention of some famous movie producer who would give them that much needed “break”!
Not surprisingly, both girls jumped at Basil Warpington’s offer.
The film, of course, was intended for circulation only among a very select group of people. It was doubtless because of this that he found that various members of his social circle were enthusiastically interested in appearing in the opus provided they wore domino masks to protect their anonymity. Thus, His Lordship Justice Bleary agreed to play the elevated jurist who would sentence the two naughty girls to their dreadful dungeon date! Miss Frobisher was delighted to play the role of dungeon mistress, particularly after she viewed some – shall we say – rather revealing photographs of Dawn and Annie that showed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that both teeners were “well reared girls”!
“Dungeon Damsels’ Dire Distress” was shot in two weeks with a hand held 16mm camera. In addition, Dawn and Annie’s acting talents proved to be largely limited to an exceptional ability to wiggle their shapely bottoms in a highly appealing way. Despite these limitations, the film turned out to be a rather good productions for several reasons. First, Mr. Warpington was unquestionably a skilled photographer with a remarkable feel for the genre. Second, he had the ability to create during the filming unexpected situations that neither Dawn nor Annie could possibly anticipate. The result was that, on several delicious occasions, he captured the girls exhibiting real fear. Finally, the dungeon in the country house of Lady “X” was a fascinating piece of authentic history well worth recording on film.
The cinema camera was not equipped with a soundtrack capability so a parallel tape recording was made. Some of this consisted of “voice-over” commentaries by participants in the production such as Lord Justice Bleary. In other cases, mournful and eerie music was played, very much in keeping with the gloomily sinister setting. Finally – and perhaps most interesting – were the sobs and shrieks of Dawn and Annie as “Dungeon Mistress” Frobisher put them through their paces!
The plot was simple. The opening shots featured Dawn and Annie – attractively outfitted in tight skirts and sweaters, sheer nylon stockings and high spike-heeled pumps, juke box dancing at a coffee bar with two handsome, but disreputable looking “Teddy Boys.” The action moved briskly to an after dark scene where the two girls – their clothing in utter disarray – were in their boyfriends’ autocar doing very, very naughty things!
The scenario moved on to an isolated petrol station, where one of the two Teddy Boys requested a “fill up” from the elderly attendant. Then the two lads walked into the office with the old gentleman who they promptly struck with a cosh – the quaint English word for a blackjack. Walking over his crumpled form, the wicked pair proceeded to loot the cash register.
The highly efficient Metropolitan London Police – known both by villains and law abiding citizens as “The Met” – was soon on the job and quickly rounded up the evildoers. Quite predictably, the girls soon found themselves – wearing only their garter belts, charcoal-hued nylon stockings, and spike-heeled pumps – incarcerated in the grim dungeon to await the stern penalty for their crimes!
A number of highly entertaining scenes of well-deserved corporal punishments ensued. In one particularly innovative segment, Dawn and Annie – wearing only their garter belts, stockings, and pumps – were outfitted as “pony girls” and required to trot about the spacious grounds pulling a light trap occupied by a switch-wielding, domino-masked Miss Frobisher.
In the final scene of the film, shot just after dark, a long, black, official-looking automobile pulled into the main drive of the massive country house. A liveried driver jumped out to open the rear door. A tall, thin man, wearing a black suit and hat and carrying a black leather satchel, emerged from the vehicle, and slowly made his way toward the building to visit the two delectable dungeon damsels who would now pay the penalty for their delinquent dalliance!
To celebrate the completion of this opus and to honor her good friend, Basil Warpington, Miss Webster arranged a special “premiere showing” at Birchwell. The “guests of honor”, of course, were Mr. Warpington and his lady friend, Miss Fiona Windsor, a debutante of great beauty and social position. Also present were Lord Justice Bleary, Lord and Lady Leechmore, Colonel Canewell (ret.) OBE, the Reverend Goodsoul and, of course, the ever-present Miss Frobisher.
After the guests had been seated in comfortable chairs, they were served flutes of champagne by Miss Webster’s maids, Shirley and Marie. Both girls had been specially outfitted for this gala affair. Wearing only their garter belts, sheer nylon stockings, and spike heeled pumps, the two blushing servants had been attired in their white maid’s caps, little white gloves, and ridiculously tiny white aprons. Their pretty mouths had been sealed with wide strips of white adhesive tape on which, as a nuance in discipline, Miss Frobisher had used lipstick to apply two juicy little smiles that contrasted dramatically with the girls’ wide, frightened eyes.
On either side of Miss Webster’s comfortable chair, there was an armless, straight backed, hard wooden chair utterly lacking adornment. The Mistress of Birchwell now rang a small Georgian silver bell. Immediately, the door to an anteroom opened and Mrs. Cranny, Birchwell’s discipline-minded cook, ushered in lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy.
The girls had been stripped to their bras, panties, garter belts, sheer nylon stockings, and spike-heeled pumps. Both were silenced with red rubber ball gags tightly strapped in place. Their wrists had been tied behind their backs and cords wound around their upper torsos kept their arms in place.
“I believe that, with the exception of Miss Windsor, you all know Welworthy and Maidenly,” Miss Webster observed crisply. “Girls, I would like to introduce Miss Fiona Windsor who was presented at the palace last year.”
Fortunately for the sake of their ripely curved behinds, Lorna Jane and Patsy remembered to curtsey in the most servile fashion imaginable. Miss Windsor inspected them coolly, a faint smile playing at the corners of her aristocratic lips.
Mrs. Cranny then ushered Lorna Jane and Patsy to their hard wooden seats. Lorna Jane sat on Miss Webster’s left while Patsy was on the imperious woman’s right. She then placed her fingers under the girls’ chins and tilted their heads up toward the silver screen. “Watch carefully, girls, and do not dare to avert your eyes for even a second,” was the older woman’s unambiguous command.
The lights dimmed and the film began. By the time the dungeon scenes began in earnest, both girls had tears trickling down their cheeks and beads of perspiration percolating on their foreheads. “Silence!” Miss Webster whispered loudly when poor Patsy had the temerity to utter a poignant, gag-stifled whimper.
A Hearty Toast
When the frightening film finally ended, the lights were turned up and Miss Webster invited her guests to an adjacent reception room where flutes of champagne and other refreshments were served.
Miss Frobisher approached Lorna Jane and Patsy and advised the girls that, although they would remain bound and gagged, they were to join the reception, mingle, and engage in “polite social exchange” with the other guests. Miss Frobisher also made it clear that she would be observing and assessing their performance!
To be frank, the girls were not at their best. Their eyes were red-rimmed from crying, beads of perspiration still decorated their foreheads, saliva dripped from their chins (a consequence of the horrid ball gags), and their panties had ridden up considerably as they squirmed their way through the distressing film.
The two girls kept side by side for moral support as they stood haplessly in the reception room. Basil Warpington approached, glass of champagne in hand and his lady friend, Miss Windsor, beside him. “Did you girls enjoy the film?” he enquired genially.
“Mmmmppphhggg!” Lorna Jane and Patsy responded, energetically nodding their heads in affirmation as Miss Frobisher watched approvingly.
“You know, girls,” Fiona Windsor observed in her aristocratic drawl, “you’d be much more fashionable if your lipstick matched your gags.” She then took Mr. Warpington by the arm and led him off to more interesting company.
Colonel Canewell now approached the hapless duo. “You girls don’t know any of these Teddy Boys, do you?” he enquired in his crisply enunciated Parade Ground tones.
“Mmmmmpphhhgggg!” Lorna Jane and Patsy chorused, nodding their heads in the sincerest negation possible.
“Jolly good!” the colonel responded enthusiastically. “Rotters! Every man Jack of them! Wouldn’t have ’em in The Regiment!” The highly decorated veteran then wandered off in search of more Bollinger.
Lorna Jane now emitted a high-pitched, gag-stifled squeal and hopped from spike-heeled pump to spike-heeled pump as she turned to face an avuncular Lord Justice Bleary – who had just indulged his passion for bottom-pinching!
“Good show, girly!” he announced in a booming voice. “I feared your bottom might have fallen asleep sitting on that hard chair!”
Miss Webster now secured everyone’s attention by tapping the side of her champagne flute with a silver teaspoon. “My dear friends,” the woman began in her cultured voice, “it is a singular pleasure to receive you at Birchwell. I shall now call upon Lord Justice Bleary to give the toast.” The corpulent jurist took up a commanding position in the center of the room.
“Harumphh!” he commenced with his usual indication that he was about to speak and that silence and close attention were expected. “Our good friend Basil Warpington has done a great service in turning his unique photographical talents to the making of the excellent film we have just been privileged to see. As I have frequently observed in The High Court, the Teddy Boy menace is the gravest threat this Sceptered Isle has faced since we thrashed those Nazi blighters! And we shall thrash these young louts just as thoroughly! I propose a toast: to Our Gracious Sovereign, to England’s green and pleasant land, and to Mr. Basil Warpington!”
Crystal glasses clinked, champagne was sipped, and murmured approvals of “jolly good” and “hear, hear” filled the room.
For poor Lorna Jane and Patsy, it seemed as if the reception would never end. At one point, the Reverend Goodsoul backed them into a corner and in his high-pitched voice, punctuated with giggles and titters, regaled his reluctant but obedient audience of two with his innovative theories on the mortification of the flesh! Even worse, half way through his diatribe, he was joined by Lady Leechmore who, to Lorna Jane and Patsy’s wide-eyed, tear-glazed consternation, added her own unique views.
At last, the girls were excused from the gathering and were marched back to their private bedrooms by the steely-eyed Miss Frobisher. As she released their bonds, the girls heaved sighs of relief, particularly when they were ungagged.
“I hope you both learned a good lesson by watching the movie tonight, girls,” said Miss Frobisher. Both Lorna Jane and Patsy nodded with alacrity.
“Good,” she said. “I would hate to have you mingle with the Teddy Boy crowd and end up in a judicial dungeon.” But the peculiar smile that played on the woman’s lips made the girls wonder if Miss Frobisher was disclosing her true feelings on the matter!
Chapter 11: The Sorrowful Skirt Saga
Billy Hackmore, the internationally famous writer and columnist on domestic discipline matters, was in a very good mood. He had just concluded putting the “finishing touches” on a special, late 1962 issue of Juvenile Justice, one of his line of publications handled by Consolidated Publishing Ltd., located in Chicago.
He was especially pleased with the lead story, “Shapely Sweetheart’s Sorrowful Skirt Saga” and the delightful Miss Fran illustration that accompanied the piece.
Regular readers of this series will know that Mr. Hackmore had previously received some very interesting correspondence from Mrs. Grace Barrett of Victoria, Canada, in which the good woman discussed the strict but very loving disciplinary practices she employed with her lovely nineteen-year-old daughter, April.
Billy Hackmore had been most pleased to receive an unexpected letter from Mrs. Barrett in which she reported on a recent, regrettable event that had involved her darling daughter. As Mrs. Barrett explained, it was a pleasantly warm morning and young April had no classes that day at Miss Simpson’s Academy for the Gentle Arts. Accordingly, the woman had sent the adorable April off to Higby’s Market for a spot of grocery shopping.
The girl wore a snug-fitting, short sleeved dark blue sweater over her bra, a tartan “wrap-around” skirt, sheer nylon stockings in an appealing coffee-hued shade, and black calfskin pumps with four-inch spike heels. The skirt was fastened around her shapely waist with a side button. Near the bottom of the garment there was a large, ornamental “safety-pin style” fastener that held the “wrap-around” skirt together. Alas, on this particular morning the fastening device would prove less than failure-proof!
April – a very well brought-up girl – said a polite “Good morning, Mr. Higby, sir,” to the bespectacled and portly proprietor and quickly went about her shopping duties.
Mrs. Barrett’s shopping list was fairly lengthy and April went about her tasks as quickly and diligently as possible. Apart from herself, the store was empty. She couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable about the way Mr. Higby’s beady eyes seemed to follow her every move. A properly brought up girl, April always bent her nyloned knees decorously when she was required to select an item from a lower shelf, much to Mr. Higby’s disappointment!
At last, the girl was at the check-out counter. With slow deliberation, Mr. Higby rang up each item. By the time he was through, April had two rather large and certainly full bags of groceries. Having paid with the money her mother had provided, the girl – struggling with the two full bags – had to push against the door to exit the shop. Mr. Higby made no effort to help her. Then tragedy struck!
The self-closing door caught a part of April’s “wrap-around” tartan skirt causing the girl to stumble forward, her bags of groceries spilling to the sidewalk. The waistband button of her skirt popped off and the “safety pin fastener” near the bottom of her skirt sprung open! “Ohhhhh… Noooooo!” April squealed haplessly as she felt her lovely lower person and its sheltering skirt part company! Billy Hackmore noted with satisfaction that Miss Fran’s splendid illustration had perfectly captured the dreadful moment.
Now bare from the waist down, except for her off white garter belt, little white panties, tautly suspendered nylon stockings and spike-heeled pumps, poor April burst into tears and covered her shame red face with her soft hands. Two high school youths, passing in a hot-rodded autocar, slowed to leer, emit piercing wolf whistles, and shout out lascivious remarks.
A traveling salesman type, in a loud checked suit, paused to look poor April up and down and lick his lips as if sitting down to a juicy steak dinner! All the while, Mr. Higby stood at the glass door of his shop – a smirk on his unpleasant face – all too obviously enjoying every moment of the sorrowful scene. Most fortunately, the next passerby was Mrs. Emma Slack, a kindly widow, who at once took mercy on poor April. Comforting the girl, she got the skirt back around April’s exposed hips and legs and used the safety pin device to secure the garment around the girl’s waist. She then gave April a fresh linen hankie for her tears and helped the girl to get the groceries back in their bags.
Then April walked back home, spike heels clicking. Unhappily, there had been no way to secure the rest of the skirt – the safety pin fastener now otherwise engaged in holding the skirt around the girl’s shapely waist. As a consequence, the skirt flapped with each step and a scarlet-faced April knew that she was showing off more shapely stockinged leg than any well bred girl should! Equally awful, some of the groceries had been seriously damaged in the accident and poor April had no additional funds with which to buy replacements.
As soon as the girl arrived home, she started to cry again and made a full confession to her mother, Mrs. Barrett enveloped her darling daughter in a warm hug, kissed her in a motherly fashion, and helped to dry the girl’s tears.
Then the good woman sat the girl down for a little talk. Mrs. Barrett was, of course, most sympathetic about what had happened to poor April. But she quite rightly pointed out that there was also an issue of misbehavior. Specifically, April had not shown good judgment in purchasing such a skirt. Moreover, having purchased it, she had failed to exercise the diligent skirt control required. Finally, in a relatively small city like Victoria, Canada, highly embarrassing word of the episode would get around – especially if “Scotty” MacClyde made reference to it in his widely read newspaper column, “Roond and Aboot.”
A frightened April nervously awaited the sentence of punishment that seemed inevitable. “I just don’t know what to do,” her mother observed, morosely shaking her head. Then suddenly, the woman brightened with inspiration. “I know! I’ll write Mr. Hackmore and seek his advice!”
When Billy Hackmore received the airmail, special delivery missive from Mrs. Barrett, he immediately saw the potential for a real “domestic discipline scoop”! He decided to waste no time and, instead of the postal service, he telephoned Mrs. Barrett. In the course of their most cordial conversation, Mr. Hackmore explained that he often worked closely with Mr. Elmer Snivelly, the proprietor of Popular Polls, an organization that did surveys on a wide range of issues – including domestic discipline! It was decided that Billy Hackmore would provide the details of the matter to Mr. Snivelly, who would design and conduct an appropriate poll, the results of which would be sent to both Mr. Hackmore and Mrs. Barrett.
A Punishment Poll
Approximately two weeks after her telephone conversation with Mr. Hackmore, Grace Barrett received a plain brown special delivery airmail envelope marked “Personal and Confidential” to her attention. She knew who it was from.
Late that afternoon, dear April returned home from her classes at Miss Simpson’s Academy for the Gentle Arts. The girl looked most appealing in a form fitting skirt and sweater set, sheer, tan-hued nylon stockings, and black calf skin pumps.
After giving her daughter a few minutes to put away her handbag and study materials, Grace Barrett summoned her in a pleasant tone of voice to the spacious and attractively furnished living room. “Sit beside me on the sofa, dear,” the older woman indicated, patting the cushion beside her invitingly. April sat down carefully, keeping her shapely stockinged legs tightly pressed together, her soft hands decorously folded in her lap.
Mrs. Barrett enquired in a kindly manner as to whether her daughter had had a good day at the academy. “We had a wonderful session on the wild flowers of the spring season,” April responded with enthusiasm. “There’s so much to learn in this life, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” her mother replied sagely. “And speaking of learning our lessons, dear,” Grace Barrett continued, producing the brown paper envelope, “this arrived from Mr. Hackmore today. Let’s see what’s in it, shall we?”
Suddenly, poor April became very pale indeed, her fingers trembling. The girl had been fully informed about her mother’s telephone conversation with Mr. Hackmore and the decision to do a poll. But, quite understandably, she had done her best to put it out of her mind. Now the dreaded moment was at hand!
Mrs. Barrett proceeded to carefully open the envelope. It contained two items. The first was a very friendly letter from Billy Hackmore in which he outlined his idea for a “case study” entitled “Shapely Sweetheart’s Sorrowful Skirt Saga.” The second item was the results from Mr. Snivelly’s poll. While poor April squirmed with apprehension, her mother took her time reading Mr. Hackmore’s letter. The good woman smiled to herself and even chuckled slightly at Mr. Hackmore’s skilled use of alliteration in the proposed title.
“All right, dear,” Grace Barrett put the letter to one side, “let’s see what poll results Mr. Snivelly obtained.” The poll had been based on “a cross section of concerned North American mothers” and 1,377 of this fine group had responded. April was required to look at the results along with her mother.
Three percent of the respondents felt that “Miss April B.” should be “strictly scolded” for her misbehavior. A further 4% felt that she should be required to write 500 lines stating “I promise to take proper care with my skirt control in the future.”
46% felt that the girl should be required to put on exactly the same attire as she had worn on the day of the mishap and, holding her skirt up at waist level, make twenty circuits of the living room – pausing in front of her mother after each one to say “I humbly beg to be forgiven for my foolish carelessness in public and sincerely promise to never do such a thing ever again.” After completion of her “Punishment Parade”, the girl would go over her mother’s knee for a lengthy bare bottom hairbrushing. The poll option in question further suggested that “two of mother’s best lady friends be invited to witness the proceedings.”
The final poll option – which was a narrow winner at 47 percent – was exactly the same as the option which preceded it except it added that, after the spanking, the girl should be escorted by the ladies out to the back of the house where the garbage cans were kept and deposit her accident prone skirt in the trash and also her panties – the latter having been “sullied” by being in public view. Finally, the girl would be marched by her mother up to the third floor bathroom for a disciplinary enema!
The tears were trickling down April’s cheeks by the time she finished reading the poll results with her mother. The older woman put her arm around her darling daughter’s softly sweatered shoulders. “Don’t fret, dear,” she said in a comforting tone. “A big girl like you knows that, in a democracy, the majority rules. Anyway, it isn’t going to happen for a few days, so you’ll have ample time to prepare yourself. I suggest you make a start by memorizing the formula of contrition you’ll have to say to me during the pause intervals of your punishment parade!”
Adorable April’s Appealing Anguish
It was a 3 P.M. on a pleasant Friday afternoon when Grace Barrett opened the front door of her elegant home to welcome two dear friends from the Bridge Club, Mrs. Helen Steele and Mrs. Cordelia Leigh-Hampton. Under Mrs. Barrett’s careful direction, Nellie – her housekeeper – had set out the afternoon tea things and then gratefully accepted her employer’s suggestion that she could have the rest of the day off. Soon the three handsome matrons were enjoying tea and cakes and a little local gossip as well!
After about an hour, Mrs. Barrett announced meaningfully, “I think this might be an opportune time to bring young April down.” Mrs. Steele and Mrs. Leigh-Hampton exchanged knowing smiles. They knew exactly what was going to happen! About three minutes later, Mrs. Barrett returned with April. The girl – who was dressed exactly as she was the day of her skirt disaster – looked pale and apprehensive.
“Those were very nice little cakes you baked, April, dear,” Mrs. Leigh-Hampton said. “Your mother said you prepared them to show your gratitude for our coming to witness your correction,” she added in a tone that had a rather cold edge to it.
“T-Thank you, m-ma’am…” April responded in the voice of a frightened child and kept her head deferentially bowed.
“Now, dear,” Mrs. Barrett interjected, “your skirt – the one that caused so much trouble, it’s time to get it up around your waist, both front and back, and hold it there with your hands behind your back.”
A blush of deep humiliation stained April’s ivory-pale cheeks as she obeyed the order. Soon the girl’s tautly suspendered stocking tops, ripely rounded upper thighs and her little white panties were on shaming display. The skimpy cut of the panties revealed the succulently bare lowermost curves of the girl’s pale, girlishly plump behind.
The rather uncomfortable and humiliating correction poor April was about to endure had been the last of the four poll options devised by Messrs. Hackmore and Snivelly and had been endorsed by 47 percent of the “concerned North American mothers” who had so laudably taken time from their no doubt busy schedules to provide a response. Indeed, the girl’s curves were about to feel the consequences of mass maternal judgment!
Mrs. Barrett now seated herself on a high backed wing chair. A glossy black, oval shaped wooden hairbrush sat on its bristles on a small table near the good woman’s right hand. April gave it a frightened glance. Her eyes were already glazed with tears. “Very well, dear,” Grace Barrett solemnly intoned. “It’s time. Parade!”
As directed, an audibly sniffling April began to walk in a wide circle. Following previously communicated orders from her mother, she held her shapely stockinged legs closely together, took very small steps, and was careful to place one pump-shod foot directly in front of the other, as if walking a chalk line. This mode of locomotion endowed the girl’s succulent bottom with an appealingly jouncy mobility.
Each time April’s course brought her to her mother, she paused, and head bowed in contrition stammered out – in a tear-choked voice – the “formula of repentance” she had been required to memorize. By the time the twentieth – and final – tour was complete, poor April’s cheeks were scarlet with shame and tears were dripping from her quivering chin.
Mrs. Barrett then picked up the hairbrush and walked over to a sturdy, straight backed and armless chair that had been positioned to provide Mrs. Steele and Mrs. Leigh-Hampton with an excellent view. Grace Barrett looked the very essence of strict maternal authority as she seated herself on the wooden chair. She crooked her right index finger and made a beckoning gesture to her tearful daughter. “I want you over my knee, dear.” The command was pleasantly enunciated but had an edge of steel. April obeyed at once.
Mrs. Barrett’s strong grip around April’s shapely waist ensured that the girl would stay securely and safely in place and also ensured that her skirt would remain well away from the “area of interest.” April’s little panties had already been descended to her rounded knees.
Mrs. Barrett raised the hairbrush. SMACKKK! The glossy black, oval shaped wood made stinging contact with the plumpest part of April’s lovely left buttock. The girl’s left spike-heeled pump involuntarily jerked up an inch or two as the delectable miscreant emitted a poignant squeal from her sweetly kissable mouth.
SMACKKK! THWACCKKK! Mrs. Barrett administered two brisk smacks to the backs of April’s exquisitely sensitive thighs where they were bare above the girl’s stocking tops. April emitted a high pitched “ooooouuuuuuhhhhhhh!” of distress, her lovely buttocks spasming as if in sympathy with her succulent thighs.
The woman continued the spanking calmly, systematically, and slowly. Often, she would pause to ask April a question about a fine point of behavior or discipline and then listen patiently to the girl’s blubbered-out response. Then, Mrs. Barrett would administer a crisp SMACCCKKKK!, as if to provide punctuation. Sometimes it would be two smacks, if the good woman felt additional emphasis was appropriate.
All in all, Grace Barrett’s performance was a model of what maternal discipline should be. She was kind but firm. Her hairbrush work produced the required stinging pain but no unsavoury bruising or blistering. And, although she loved her darling daughter deeply, she did not for one moment shrink from the responsibilities of her executioner’s duties.
When the spanking was finally over, Mrs. Barrett helped her sobbing daughter off her lap and instructed the girl to kneel before her and continue to hold her skirt up. The tearful teener was then required to kiss Mr. Hairbrush’s glossy, smooth back several times as a mark of respect and appreciation.
When this ritual was satisfactorily completed, poor April was required to remove her skirt and panties and – escorted by all three ladies – was taken out to the back of the house, where the garbage cans were located, and deposit the garments in the trash.
Back in the house, Mrs. Barrett addressed her guests while gently but firmly gripping April by an elbow. “Do enjoy another cup of tea and some more cake,” the good woman spoke in a most genial tone of voice. “April and I have something to attend to up on the third floor,” she added meaningfully, eliciting a poignant whimper from the poor girl.
“Are you sure we can’t be of assistance?” Helen Steel enquired with ill-concealed eagerness. April shuddered visibly.
“Thank you so much, Helen, dear,” Mrs. Barrett responded, “but I think I can manage this by myself.”
An hour later, Mrs. Barrett’s guests had departed and April, alone in her attractively appointed bedroom, was lying face down on her bed enjoying a good cry. Below the waist, apart from her garter belt, nylons and spike-heeled pumps, the girl was wearing the full cut but skin fitting black rubber panties that were a post-enema requirement.
April knew that what had happened to her would be fully reported in a forthcoming issue of Juvenile Justice. She also knew that – as with the two earlier editions of Discipline Digest in which she had been featured – she would be required to read the publication from cover to cover under her mother’s close supervision.
The hapless, sniffling girl shuddered as she recalled looking at Miss Fran’s illustration of her lying face down on the enema table. Looking at the illustration had caused April to vividly recall the burning, throbbing pain in her freshly spanked bare buttocks, the horrid feeling of the plump, hard rubber enema nozzle inserted to the hilt in her bottom, and the distressing sensations as the lukewarm, soapy solution began to flow into her.
Wisely, dear April repentantly resolved that she would never, ever buy such a silly skirt again. She also renewed her resolve to be “the bestest girl ever” so her mummy wouldn’t have to punish her again!
Chapter 12: The Bejeweled Box Conspiracy
Longtime readers will recall that the two shapely nine-teen-year-old maids in the aristocratic Agatha Webster’s employ – Shirley Doolittle and Marie Costermonger – had received strict punishment canings for their hijinks while on holiday in the English seaside resort town of Brighton.
Specifically, as a result of being influenced by two delinquent “Teddy Boy” youths, the girls had paraded their pulchritude in skimpy polka dot bikinis and high, white patent leather spike heeled pumps in front of a leering and slobbering assembly of male personages. An unsavory local tabloid newspaper – The Brighton Bugle – had covered the event with “revealing” photographs. When the publication was brought to Miss Webster’s attention, Shirley and Marie’s fates were sealed – and their bottoms were striped.
On their officially sanctioned time off, the two girls would go into the nearby village of Wopping Stoat which, in the High Street, boasted a modern-style coffee bar complete with a juke box and an area for skirt swirling jive dancing, which both of them enjoyed immensely.
Here the girls met two handsome but disreputable Teddy Boys, one named Alfie Pecker and the other Lemmy Cockley. What the girls lacked in intellect (and it was a considerable deficit), they more than made up for with promiscuity! In consequence, it did not take long for the lads to divest the oh-so-willing girls of their skimpy, sin-black nylon panties.
Alfie, before being fired for indolence, worked briefly as a painter’s helper for Mr. Norman Goodfellow, a respected local craftsman who had done work at Birchwell. This had provided young Alfie’s eager eyes an opportunity to peruse the many treasures that made their home in the grand country house. In particular, Alfie’s avarice-filled eyes spied a bejeweled silver box which, as his subsequent “research” revealed, was an Eighteenth Century heirloom worth many thousands of English pounds sterling.
As for Lemmy, he worked as a junior clerk and messenger boy for a local travel agency. The immoral but crafty lad had soon learned how to procure airline ticket blanks which could be forged to provide a fast escape to warmer climes. Young Lemmy had also made a contact who could, for a price, provide passports on a rush basis.
One weekend evening, when Alfie and Lemmy had concluded enjoying the pleasures of the flesh (to wit, that of Shirley and Marie!), they informed the girls of their wicked plot. Specifically, Shirley and Marie would purloin the box, deliver it into Alfie and Lemmy’s eager hands, whereupon the immoral youths would sell the goods to a local fence, one Herbie Slymster. They would then make a hasty escape to sunny Spain with their nubile girlfriends. Shirley and Marie – picturing a life free of onerous maiding duties and imagining themselves parading their pulchritude poolside in abbreviated bikinis and high spike-heeled pumps – eagerly endorsed the evil scheme.
And, within a few short days, the wicked deed was done. Shirley and Marie carefully wrapped the box and addressed the package to Lemmy Cockley in care of the travel agency. Learning that lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy and pretty Patsy Maidenly were going into the village on an authorized shopping trip, the two naughty maids approached the girls and asked them if they would mind dropping the package off. Poor, innocent Lorna Jane and Patsy were easily duped. It never entered their minds that such perfidy was taking place. They made the delivery and, in so doing, delivered their own sweet selves into the most dire distress imaginable!
Enter Scotland Yard
It was Miss Webster’s eagle-eyed assistant Miss Frobisher who noticed the box was missing that same day. She immediately informed her employer, who promptly used the telephone on her imposing desk to contact the Chief Constable of the County. When a person of Agatha Webster’s position called, action was instantaneous. Within an hour, Detective Chief Inspector Trevor Lashington, Head of Scotland Yard’s famed “Flying Squad,” was mobilized for action. Even the most hardened criminals quailed when faced by this handsome, utterly fearless, and physically imposing officer!
All too soon, a sleek black Wolsley police motor car and an unmarked black van were streaking down the road which led to Wopping Stoat. The six person “Flying Squad” included two burly women police officers who were experts in dealing with young miscreants of the fair sex.
When the squad arrived at Birchwell, everything proceeded like clockwork. Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher entertained Detective Chief Inspector Lashington and his assistant to tea in the magnificent library while the two police women took the prime suspects – a sobbing Shirley and a mewling Marie – down to the cellar. Half an hour later the police women returned, complete confessions in hand. Handcuffed and hooded, the two thoroughly terrified maids were marched to the waiting van. Alfie and Lemmy were arrested less than an hour later.
Miss Webster of course ensured that her dear friend, Lord Justice Bleary, was promptly informed of the heinous crime. Although the Learned High Court Justice had little interest in the lesser judiciary, he decided that this case – given his deep friendship with Agatha Webster – would be an exception. Accordingly, he summoned Magistrate William Wellgate of the Wopping Stoat Court to his High Court Privy Chambers in London.
Magistrate Wellgate, an earnest man who was eager to please, had never been in the presence of a Lord Justice before. Resplendent in his crimson and ermine robes, Lord Justice Bleary ushered the country magistrate to a leather wing chair. “Be seated, Wellgate,” the High Court Judge directed in his booming voice. For the next half hour, Lord Justice Bleary delivered an impassioned monologue – interrupted only by the occasional “Harumph!” – on the Birchwell affair, the evils of the “Teddy Boy Menace,” the merits of strict discipline for naughty maidservants, and the need for stern justice to be done!
“I shall closely observe your handling of this case, Wellgate,” Lord Justice Bleary commented, his bushy eyebrows peaked for emphasis. “A proper outcome will not go unnoticed by we in the corridors of power!” Lord Justice Bleary had left no doubt as to what he meant by “proper.”
Magistrate Wellgate was then dismissed, literally backing out of the imposing Chambers, bowing, scraping and earnestly uttering such phrases as “Yes, M’Lord,” and “As you direct, M’Lord.” He could not have been more sincere in his abject respect for the fabled Lord Justice.
Alfie and Lemmy were dealt with first by Magistrate Wellgate. The two once swaggering, but now cringing, Teddy Boys received a severe tongue lashing followed by a seven year sentence to a correctional institute for delinquent youths. The institute was located in the Isle of Man, where judicial birching was still the order of the day.
Then it was Shirley and Marie’s turn! The two girls, tearful and trembling, stood before Magistrate Wellgate in their snug fitting skirt and sweater sets, sheer nylon stockings and high, spike-heeled pumps.
“Miss Agatha Webster is a leading citizen of this Sceptered Isle,” Magistrate Wellgate began. “During our darkest hour – when Nazi bombers filled English skies – Miss Webster served as an ambulance driver. Her steadfast courage and dedication to poor souls in need was properly recognized by The Order of the British Empire. Now that peace and prosperity have returned to our green and pleasant land, Miss Webster has become a pillar of our society, respected by all with the lamentable exception – it would appear – of two wicked maidservants who conspired with two evil Teddy Boys to perpetrate thievery – thievery most foul.”
After a pause, the stern magistrate continued. “As your confessions make abundantly clear, this is how you rewarded the gallant lady who took you in and gave you the opportunity to serve your betters in one of England’s finest estates. There are no mitigating circumstances. You both shall serve four years and a day at the Steelford Correctional Institute for Delinquent Girls. Take them down!”
Shirley and Marie fell to their knees, blubbering hapless pleas for totally undeserved mercy. Two burly matrons arrived at once, yanked the girls upright, handcuffed the miscreants’ wrists behind their backs, and marched them out of the courtroom with a few noisy, stinging smacks administered to the girls’ tightly skirted, wiggling behinds. A murmur of approval – and even some delighted titters – emanated from the courtroom audience – an audience that included a heavily veiled, dark-suited Miss Frobisher.
Yes, indeed, Shirley and Marie might still parade their pulchritude in skimpy underthings, sheer nylon hosiery, and high spike-heeled pumps, but it would not be to entertain and inflame their naughty Teddy Boy boyfriends in sunny Spain. It would be when they were being marched to one of the well equipped Disciplinary Chambers at the Steelford Correctional Institute for a bare bottom appointment with the professionally designed and judicially- sanctioned Official Punishment Cane!
With a most satisfactory outcome realized in Magistrate Wellgate’s court, the reader might be tempted to assume that our tale is at an end. But it is not! Indeed, our tale continues and involves two very succulently curvaceous tails – those belonging to lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy.
Maidenly Misfortunes
The confessions made by Shirley Doolittle and Marie Costermonger were exceptionally detailed – not surprising, given the “most persuasive” questioning techniques employed by the two policewoman who had been given the pleasurable duty of determining “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth”!
The confessions accordingly included details of the role played by Lorna Jane and Patsy in delivering the stolen box into the hands of the criminally inclined Lemmy Cockley. Although it was clear that the two American girls had acted as hapless dupes, Detective Chief Inspector Trevor Lashington did his solemn duty by asking Miss Webster if she wished to press charges against unlucky Lorna Jane and poor Patsy.
“That will not be necessary, Chief Inspector,” Agatha Webster responded crisply. “It is obvious the girls did not know what they were doing. They were, to be sure, very foolish but they were not a conscious part of a foul criminal conspiracy. That foolishness will be addressed through the application of appropriate domestic discipline procedures here at Birchwell.”
Since it would take Miss Webster’s staff agency a minimum of one week to secure replacements for Shirley and Marie, Lorna Jane and Patsy were summarily ordered into maid service. Indeed, the girls discharged their duties with the most servile alacrity imaginable, since they were desperate to demonstrate their deep repentance for their foolish behavior and to make the fullest restitution possible.
Faithful subscribers of this series will recall that this was not the first time Lorna Jane and Patsy had been “made to maid” at Birchwell. Fortunately, the lessons they had learned on that first occasion served them in good stead. Both girls were able to get through the week without making a single error.
At the end of that week, the new maids – Lorraine Barnsley and Rosa Bottomly – arrived. Both girls were 19, exceedingly shapely, and pretty in a common sort of way. Their previous employer, Lady Cordelia Hampshire, gave them a good reference, pointing out that her only reason for letting the girls go was because she had decided to sell her Wiltshire Estate and take up residence in Monaco. Lorna Jane and Patsy were now freed from their maiding duties but, alas, other maidenly misfortunes awaited them.
Specifically, Miss Webster convened a tribunal which was comprised of Lord Justice Bleary, Miss Frobisher, Lady Leechmore and, of course, her own good self. The Lord Justice, impressively robed and wigged, sat behind Miss Webster’s imposing desk. Miss Webster and Lady Leechmore occupied high backed Chippendale wing chairs. Miss Frobisher, in a severely cut dark suit and judicial wig, addressed the tribunal from a standing position. Lorna Jane and Patsy, clad in snug, short sleeved sweaters, tight skirts ending below their knees, sheer nylon stockings, and high spike-heeled pumps, stood on low wooden kitchen stools – hands at their sides, heads bowed in abject contrition. Both were blinking back tears and visibly trembling.
“These girls,” Miss Frobisher’s intonation was cold and precise, “while not conscious members of a heinous criminal conspiracy, nonetheless displayed unspeakable foolishness in fraternizing with common serving girls, a fraternization that facilitated the evil plot. Were it not for my taking timely note of the treasure’s absence – and the rapid action of Detective Chief Inspector Lashington of the Flying Squad – Miss Webster, the Mistress of Birchwell, would have lost a priceless and irreplaceable heirloom. I have little confidence that the Spanish authorities, such as they are, would have been of much use.” The woman delivered this last observation with a perfunctory sniff. “These girls require strict discipline!” Both Lorna Jane and Patsy whimpered audibly.
“Harumph!” Lord Justice Bleary issued his trademark signal that he would now speak and that no intervention would be tolerated. He snapped his fingers in the direction of Lorna Jane and Patsy. “Get down off those stools, girlies, and stand before me!”
Given the tightness of their skirts, both girls had to pull the garments some distance up their full but shapely stockinged legs in order to awkwardly step down. This attracted much interested attention. Soon the two distressed damsels were standing before the frightening Lord Justice.
Lord Justice Bleary now continued. “Well put, Madam Prosecutor. The case is plain. Thievery. Thievery most foul! I am reminded of the olden days and the glorious history of England’s jurisprudence. I am reminded of Judge Jeffreys – a distinguished Cambridge graduate – who, at the age of 33, became Lord Chief Justice of our noble land and a peer of the realm! I am reminded that if you girlies were before him, you would be sentenced to accompany Doolittle and Costermonger on a one-way trip to Tyburn Prison. And a pretty quartet you’d make – standing on the scaffold, bound in your scanties, awaiting the tender mercies of the Lord High Executioner!”
A sobbing Lorna Jane and Patsy felt their shapely, nyloned knees go watery. The girls, of course, did not realize that Lord Justice Bleary was simply enjoying a little “gallows humor” at their expense.
“Harumph! But we live in more permissive times and I – as is known throughout the realm – I am a kindly judge and I shall therefore treat you leniently. Accordingly, tomorrow you shall receive a taste of the olden days discipline of naughty maids by spending six hours in The Old Mill. The next day, you shall be taken to a place of execution at Birchwell Manor and there you will be strapped, strapped on your bare buttocks, strapped on your bare buttocks until they are red! May the Lord have mercy on your naughty bottoms!”
A Few Fearful Hours
The Old Mill was a stone building located about a ten minute walk away from the Great House that was the central feature of the Birchwell Estate. It was reached by means of a narrow path that made its way through a pleasantly wooded area. The Old Mill had not been used for its original purpose for more than 70 years – but, as we shall see, it still had its purpose.
The day after the Tribunal dawned bright and pleasant. A perfect day for a stroll to The Old Mill! Lorna Jane and Patsy were appropriately tearful and repentant as they were prepared for their disciplinary ordeal by Miss Frobisher and Mrs. Cranny, Birchwell’s hard-handed cook.
Both girls were required to strip to their off-white, elastic garter belts, sheer nylon hosiery, and glossy black patent leather spike-heeled pumps. Their wrists were then handcuffed behind their shapely backs and their nyloned ankles secured with manacles having a six-inch connecting chain that ensured that only the tiniest and most mincing of steps would be possible. Lorna Jane was then silenced with a pump gag. The poor girl’s tear filled eyes widened in distress as Miss Frobisher used the squeeze bulb to inflate the device once it had been placed in Lorna Jane’s pretty mouth. Dear Patsy’s gag was equally unique and distressing. Finally, both girls had well lubricated but uncomfortable rubber devices strapped into their girlishly plump, succulently curvaceous bottoms!
The girls were then marched out to The Old Mill. The ankle manacles imposed a constrained form of locomotion that caused their lovely behinds to sway and jiggle in a most appealing fashion. This, in turn, caused the rubber devices in their bottoms to shift about in the most distressing fashion imaginable.
Once in The Old Mill, the girls’ handcuffs were removed and, facing a dank, stone wall, their wrists were secured by manacles dangling from above. Then the girls were left to contemplate their awful fate! As Miss Webster had observed, “A few fearful hours in The Old Mill will give those naughty girls a good sense of what an olden times dungeon was like!”
Most regrettably, The Old Mill was also home to a family of nasty rodents who, as soon as Miss Frobisher and Mrs. Cranny had departed, scurried out to investigate. The horrid little beasts sniffed at Lorna Jane and Patsy’s glossy, spike-heeled pumps, causing the poor damsels the most dire distress! Why, oh why had they agreed to do what they did for those two naughty maids who were now enjoying the bottom-warming hospitality of the Steelford Correctional Institute? Alas, it was now much too late for such belated second thoughts.
The next day, wearing only their bras, garter belts, hose and heels, Lorna Jane and Patsy were marched by Miss Frobisher and Mrs. Cranny to Birchwell’s imposing Ballroom which, as devotees of this series will recall, is where the “Miss Spanked Teenager Contest” was held.
Once again, Peters – Birchwell’s groundsman and an accomplished carpenter – had been pressed into duty. Specifically, he had been directed to construct two sturdy punishment tripods – the kind that naughty girls are secured to for good, bare bottom strappings.
Comfortable chairs had been arranged to accommodate the distinguished witnesses: Lord Justice Bleary, Miss Webster, Lord and Lady Leechmore, Colonel Canewell, The Very Reverend Gerald Goodsoul, Basil Warpington (camera in hand!), and the ever-present Miss Frobisher.
After the poignantly sobbing Lorna Jane and Patsy had been secured to the side-by-side tripods, Miss Webster announced, in her clear contralto tones, that the sentence would now be carried out – by authority of Lord Justice Bleary – on Lorna Jane and Patsy’s bare, girlishly plump, condemned behinds.
As a gesture in compassion, Miss Webster had designated Mrs. Cranny as Official Executioner and had advised the good woman that the strappings were to be moderate since – although Lorna Jane and Patsy had made a serious error of judgement – they were not conscious co conspirators in the despicable act of thievery. Miss Webster also knew that Mrs. Cranny, as the mother of two now grown, happily married daughters, had the strict but maternal qualities that were appropriate to this particular chastisement. Needless to say, Miss Frobisher was disappointed. She would have relished the opportunity to work on Lorna Jane and Patsy’s succulent bottom cheeks!
Also needless to say, Lorna Jane and Patsy shrieked and sobbed throughout Mrs. Cranny’s slow and highly effective strapwork. And when they were not shrieking, the two girls blubbered out poignant promises of perfect future behavior and that they would never again do such a naughty thing.
When it was finally over – and there were times when Lorna Jane and Patsy thought it never would be – Birchwell boasted two very red-bottomed young ladies who had learned the hard way that participants in the Polite Society Preparation Programme do not have improper relations with common serving girls.
As for the distinguished witnesses, they were well pleased with the proceedings – so much so, a beamingly grateful Mrs. Cranny was awarded a special gratuity of two pounds sterling. In addition, Basil Warpington was particularly pleased that he had loaded his Leica with color film!
Chapter 13: Lorna Jane’s Pointed Posterior Punishment
As we saw in the last episode of this series, lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy and pretty Patsy Maidenly were strictly disciplined for their foolish behavior in fraternizing with the common serving girls, Shirley Doolittle and Marie Costermonger, and – in so doing – unwittingly assisting the two exceedingly ungrateful maids (and their nefarious boyfriends) to perpetrate the heinous theft of one of Birchwell’s priceless heirlooms.
Thanks to Miss Agatha Webster’s elevated social position and the good offices of her dear friend, Lord Justice Bleary, the naughty maids and wicked Teddy Boys were sentenced to the strictest possible judicial corrections. They would go on to serve many years in the unfriendly confines of reformatories that still subscribed to the birch and cane. Because Miss Webster was Lorna Jane’s aunt, she and Patsy were fortunate enough to be disciplined in a domestic, rather than institutional, setting.
After their fearful time in The Old Mill and the execution before witnesses of their bare bottom strapping sentences, both girls realized they must never again fraternize with common serving girls and must redouble their efforts in Miss Webster’s Polite Society Preparation Programme! Indeed, both girls were re-enforced in their resolve by dreadful dreams in which they were consigned to olden times dungeons and even found themselves – trembling and tearful – before Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys for the sternest sentence imaginable, thanks to Lord Justice Bleary’s learned musings on that great justice of an earlier era!
Over the following two weeks, Lorna Jane and Patsy were on their exquisitely best behavior and studied their lessons with a diligence that pleased even the dour Miss Frobisher. Unknown to the girls, however, was the fact that during this period, Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher had one of their periodic “high level summit meetings” at which they discussed various matters related to Birchwell and The Polite Society Preparation Program.
At this meeting, Miss Webster made it very clear that although she regarded Patsy Maidenly as a lovely and willing girl, there was not a great deal more The Polite Society Preparation Program could accomplish in her case. Miss Webster then showed her compassionate side by saying, “Of course, Miss Frobisher, we shall not send her home empty handed. That would be unkind and I expect her mother would give her the bare bottom hairbrush spanking of her young life. Would you be kind enough to go to that nice engraver in the Wopping Stoat High Street and obtain a ‘certificate of special accomplishment’ for our young lady?”
Miss Frobisher did not agree, but she acceded to the other woman’s request instantly. Although she had an important and influential role at Birchwell, there was never any doubt that the establishment was ruled by Agatha Forsythe Webster, O.B.E.
The ceremony for Patsy was a quiet affair held in Birchwell’s imposing library. In addition to Miss Frobisher, Miss Webster had invited Lord Justice Bleary, who was in an avuncular, bottom-pinching mood, heightened by the sight of the curvaceous Patsy in her form-fitting skirt. Miss Webster had also invited the Most Reverend Gerald Goodsoul – to provide the blessing – and Basil Warpington – who would take the official photographs. Lorna Jane was, of course, also present.
When the ceremony was concluded, tea and cakes were served by the new serving maids, Rosa Bottomly and Lorraine Barnsley. The two pink-cheeked, delectably curvaceous maidservants curtsied and bowed and, overall, behaved with a delicious servility motivated to a significant degree by the lengthy lecture an enthusiastic Miss Frobisher had given the new recruits on the fate of Shirley Doolittle and Marie Costermonger. By the time the older woman was through, the two succulent nineteen-year-olds were visibly trembling and blinking back tears!
After the tea and cakes had been consumed, fond farewells were exchanged. Lord Justice Bleary wished Patsy well in his booming tones and playfully pinched the girl’s tightly skirted lower left buttock, an action that caused Patsy to emit a scrumptious squeal and caused much merriment among the onlookers – with the exception, of course, of Lorna Jane!
As for Basil Warpington, he caused poor Patsy to blush scarlet with a whispered suggestion that they go upstairs so he might take some “more intimate” photographs. As for Lorna Jane, she was permitted one last hug with Patsy and a sisterly kiss. Over their time together at Birchwell, the two girls had become dear friends and had often “consoled” one another. A tear trickled down lovely Lorna Jane’s smooth cheek as she contemplated being alone at Birchwell.
Post-Luncheon Punishment
Despite her sorrow over Patsy’s departure, Lorna Jane continued to apply herself to her studies with alacrity. She had no desire to visit The Caning Chamber or, for that matter, the horrid Old Mill! Alas, however, a behavioral lapse was imminent.
On an authorized shopping trip to pick up some “girlish necessities” in Wopping Stoat, Lorna Jane passed a Newsagent’s Shop and noticed, on the outdoor display rack, the American magazine Starlet Parade. The girl had read the magazine from time to time back in America, and she enjoyed its articles on “starlet bubble baths,” “dressing for boyfriend appeal,” and “tips on dating.” Feeling terribly homesick and missing Patsy, she went into the store and bought the magazine, secreting it at the bottom of her shopping bag.
The next day, Lorna Jane spend an arduous morning studying “The Fine Art of the Thank-you Note” by Miss Eustace Mannerly. At about noon, Miss Frobisher entered the classroom and told Lorna Jane that she could now go to her room and freshen up for lunch. Safely inside her room, Lorna Jane knew that she would have about fifteen minutes before she was expected downstairs where the meal would be served.
Lorna Jane went to her bureau, opened a drawer, and located Starlet Parade – carefully concealed under neatly folded articles of attire. The girl then lay face down on her comfortable bed and began to leaf through the magazine. Her attention was attracted by an article entitled “How I Drive My Boyfriend Crazy!” by Miss Linda Layton, age 22. The editorial “blurb” indicated that the “pretty and curvaceous” Miss Layton had just got her “big break” with a bit part in Lamont Van Renselier’s new drive-in hit, “Reformatory Rumpus”!
Miss Layton described, in gushing prose, how she had seen the movie with her boyfriend and, afterwards, had spent a most rewarding time polishing his vinyl seat covers with her bare bottom! The story reminded dear Lorna Jane of her own dates with her beloved boyfriend, Rod Long, who she missed terribly. Naughty girl that she was, Lorna Jane began to think about young Rod’s sleek, upstanding member on date nights and how, if he only he were present, she would show him how much she loved and admired his enviable equipment!
Lorna Jane was so caught up in her reverie that she utterly failed to hear Miss Frobisher open the door to her bedroom and approach on her rubber-soled shoes. She did, however, feel the crisp SMACK Miss Frobisher administered to the girl’s snugly skirted seat. With a poignant squeal, Lorna Jane turned to see her nemesis!
“What do think you’re up to, girl?” Miss Frobisher’s voice projected a cold anger. “You’re supposed to be at lunch. And what is this you’re reading?” The older woman seized the magazine and flipped through its pages while Lorna Jane whimpered.
“Filth!” Miss Frobisher practically spat out the word. “Get on your feet this instant, Welworthy! I’m taking you to see Miss Webster.”
Blinking back tears, Lorna Jane scrambled to her feet. Miss Frobisher gripped the girl by an earlobe and proceeded to march her out the door and down the hall. “Step lively, Welworthy!” Miss Frobisher emphasized her command by vigorously applying the folded magazine to Lorna Jane’s tightly skirted behind. Squealing and wiggling, the girl stumbled forward – her spike heels clicking.
In a bay-windowed area off Birchwell’s grand library, a circular Georgian table was set with three places for lunch. An apprehensive Rosa Bottomly – looking most appealing in her skin fitting maid’s uniform – hovered nervously in the background. Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher had been seated at the table impatiently awaiting Lorna Jane’s arrival. “Where is that girl?” Miss Webster had enquired, an edge of steel in her cultured voice, directing her assistant to go in search of her. Miss Frobisher returned with a very frightened Lorna Jane in tow. “I found her lying on her bed reading this filth!” The woman hissed the words out with a venom that caused an icy shiver to convulse Lorna Jane’s shapely spine.
Miss Webster took the magazine from Miss Frobisher and proceeded to peruse it. The woman lifted her aristocratic nose in disdain. Then she looked at Lorna Jane with a level stare that would have frozen a tropical lagoon. “Remove your skirt and underpants, Welworthy, and place them over the back of that chair – the chair you were expected to occupy for luncheon.”
A scarlet-faced and tearful Lorna Jane obeyed at once. Then the weeping girl stood before Miss Webster, arms haplessly at her sides. Above the waist, Lorna Jane wore a decorous, mauve-hued silk blouse. Its high neck was trimmed with pretty lace as was its snug waistband and the cuffs of its long sleeves. Below the waist, the girl was humiliatingly exposed in just her off-white elastic garter belt, tautly-suspendered, sheer nylon hosiery, and glossy black patent leather pumps with high spike heels that gleamed in the afternoon light.
“Properly brought up young ladies are not late for luncheon engagements,” Miss Webster sagely observed. “You shall kneel on your palms, forehead pressed to the floor, while Miss Frobisher and I dine. Ensure that your bottom is pointed toward us so we can contemplate its appropriate punishment.”
Lorna Jane assumed the humiliating position and quickly found that her delectably rounded, nyloned knees made a painful impression on her soft palms. The girl sniffled audibly. “Very well, Bottomly. You may serve,” Miss Webster commanded. The trembling maidservant obeyed instantly, desperately eager not to suffer a similar fate.
“This pheasant is rather good,” Miss Webster observed, savoring a morsel followed by a sip of vintage claret.
“Yes, indeed,” Miss Frobisher responded. “I expect Peters has been out on a shoot.” Agatha Webster shrugged at her assistant with aristocratic indifference.
Lorna Jane Gets the Point
After the luncheon was concluded and Rosa Bottomly had cleared away, the maidservant presented herself to Miss Webster for further orders. “Go to Mrs. Cranny, Bottomly,” Miss Webster directed, “and ask her for a length of wrist rope. She’ll know what you mean.”
With a tremulous “Y-Yes, madam” and a servile curtsey, Rosa scurried off to the kitchen. She returned promptly and presented Miss Webster, on a silver tray, a coiled eighteen-inch length of cord. The woman took the offering without comment.
“On your feet, girl,” Miss Webster now commanded. Lorna Jane stood up, flexing her aching palms. “Put your hands behind your back, Welworthy. Wrists crossed.” While Lorna Jane continued to poignantly sob and whimper, Miss Webster tightly bound the girl.
Gripping Lorna Jane by an arm, she turned to Miss Frobisher and announced, “She’s for the East Wing bedroom with the special stool.” Miss Frobisher’s eyes gleamed with pleasure and an unpleasant smile twisted her thin lips.
It was a lengthy and distressing journey for poor Lorna Jane as she was marched to her fate. The East Wing bedroom turned out not to have a bed. The large room was sparsely furnished, containing only a vanity table with a mirror, a wooden bench in front of the vanity, a tall chest of drawers, a wooden stool, and another long, ornately framed mirror attached to a heavy stand so its angle might be adjusted. The room also contained a tall, brine-filled vase in which a number of thin, wickedly pliant willow switches resided.
Lorna Jane was required to sit in front of the vanity with its large, circular mirror. “You have behaved like an irresponsible child, Welworthy,” Miss Webster observed coldly. “Put her hair in pigtails, Miss Frobisher, if you would be so kind.”
“With pleasure, Miss Webster,” the woman responded and set to her task with ill-concealed glee. Soon Lorna Jane’s lovely brunette tresses were styled into two juvenile pigtails, each one ending with a small, red bow.
Hairstyling completed, Miss Frobisher ordered Lorna Jane to her feet and then held the girl in place by an arm. For her part, Agatha Webster now placed the round stool in front of the long, adjustable mirror so that whosoever was seated upon it would have an excellent view of themselves. That “whosoever” was to be Lorna Jane!
Miss Webster then opened the top drawer of the bureau and withdrew a red velvet bag, about eight inches long and closed with a silken drawstring at the top. The woman opened the bag, reached in and proceeded to withdraw pieces of gravel which she carefully arranged on the seat of the stool. Lorna Jane’s tear-filled eyes grew very wide.
Miss Webster then put the bag away and opened the second drawer of the bureau and took out a cuddly little Teddy Bear. “Seat her!” Miss Webster’s command was issued in a tone that brooked no discussion.
“You heard your mistress,” Miss Frobisher hissed in Lorna Jane’s ear. “Get your behind on that stool. Now!”
Whimpering mournfully, Lorna Jane took the most deliciously hesitant steps imaginable toward the stool.
SMACKKK! SMACKKK! Miss Frobisher applied brisk manual encouragement to the ripely rounded backs of Lorna Jane’s thighs, where they were bare above her stocking tops. “Get a move on, girl!” she decreed. Arriving at her destination, Lorna Jane stood – tearful and trembling – with her back to the stool.
“Any more dawdling, Welworthy, and you’ll sit on a caned bottom,” Miss Webster observed in a tone of voice that made poor Lorna Jane’s blood run cold.
With exquisite reluctance, the girl began to lower her girlishly plump, succulently rounded bum toward its dreaded destination. At last contact was made, as verified by Lorna Jane’s squeal of distress. Miss Webster then balanced the Teddy Bear on Lorna Jane’s lap.
“If you try to raise your rump, Welworthy,” Miss Webster didactically explained, “Mr. Bear will fall to the floor. Given that your hands are bound behind your back, you will not be able to put him in back in place. If, when we return, Mr. Bear is not where he is supposed to be, you will be strictly disciplined.”
The imperious woman then walked over to the brine-filled vase and withdrew a well-soaked willow switch. This she sliced through the air with a wispy stroke which caused an ominous hissing noise accompanied by a light spray of brine droplets.
“Specifically, Welworthy,” Miss Webster continued, “you will have your suspender belt removed, your stockings rolled down to your ankles and, with your hands still tied behind your back, you will do a long and painful dance to the tune the switch plays on the backs of those full but shapely legs of yours. From the top of your thighs to the bottoms of your calves and then back again. It would be in your best interests to ensure that Mr. Bear remain on your lap. Open your mouth.”
With trembling lips, a tearful Lorna Jane obeyed. Miss Webster placed the switch at its mid-point in the girl’s pretty mouth. “Clamp down.”
Lorna Jane was left for an hour to contemplate her image (an image of dire distress!) in the mirror. The bits and pieces of gravel were not sharp enough to break the skin but they nonetheless painfully prodded and probed the succulent flesh of Lorna Jane’s bare buttocks, not to mention the backs of her upper thighs.
At one point, the poor girl haplessly tried to raise her bottom a little. Mr. Bear wobbled perilously. Lorna Jane immediately returned her bottom to where it was supposed to be and bit down on the switch in her anguish.
As promised, Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher returned in an hour. Fortunately, for poor Lorna Jane, Mr. Bear was still perched on her lap.
Miss Webster now addressed the well-punished girl. “You behaved in a childish and self-indulgent way, Welworthy, and that is why you have been corrected in this fashion. Young ladies who are fit for polite society are not late for luncheon engagements. Young ladies who are fit for polite society do not read trashy magazines containing lubricious material. Do you understand?”
Lorna Jane looked up at her strict mistress with tear-filled, pleading eyes. She nodded her head in earnest agreement.
Miss Webster now picked up Mr. Bear and returned him to his drawer. She then removed the switch from Lorna Jane’s mouth.
“You may stand and present your backside to us,” Miss Webster directed.
Most unsteadily, Lorna Jane rose to her feet and presented herself as directed. The girl’s ripely rounded buttocks – normally so exquisitely pale fleshed – were covered with a strict patina of red-hued indentation marks. So were the upper backs of her thighs. One piece of gravel continued to cling to the ripest summit of her left buttock as if it were loathe to end its contact with such delectable flesh. Miss Webster flicked it away with the tip of the switch.
“Now, Welworthy,” Miss Webster’s voice resonated with cold command, “walk around the room in a wide circle. Keep your legs pressed together and take tiny little steps, one pump directly in front of the other – as if you were walking a chalk line. Now, march!”
The combination of having her hands tied behind her back and the commanded mode of locomotion caused Lorna Jane’s prettily marked behind to sway and jiggle in the most exceptional way.
Miss Webster followed, lecturing the girl on various fine points of polite society and discipline – emphasizing her sage observations with periodic light flicks of the switch. Even these stung and produced poignant squeals from Lorna Jane who quickly discovered that the sheer nylon hosiery that snuggled her luscious legs offered no protection whatsoever from the switch’s kisses.
It took twenty tours of the room to satisfy Miss Webster. When it was finally over, she turned to Miss Frobisher and ordered, “Take Welworthy to the West Wing bathroom. You know what to do to her when you get her there. Put a diaper on her afterwards. I want her to have a very clear understanding of how we punish childish behavior at Birchwell.
“As you direct, Miss Webster,” Miss Frobisher responded, her face contorted with a cold smirk. The click of Lorna Jane’s spike heels echoed in the long hallway as she was marched to her fate!
Some may feel that Lorna Jane’s discipline was rather strict. But the fact of the matter is the girl had behaved in a childish and irresponsible manner. To her credit, the disciplinary session made an impression on Lorna Jane’s brain as well as her bottom with the result that she used her lovely nether portions to sit and study and study and study! The result of all this effort, as we shall see in the final chapter of this series, is that dear Lorna Jane successfully graduated from the Polite Society Preparation Programme and returned to a homecoming which was warm in more ways than one!
As for Miss Frobisher, the disciplinary session had been as delightful for her as it had been distressing for poor Lorna Jane. The only thing that would have made the entire affair even more satisfying for Miss Frobisher would have been if she had been given the opportunity to escort Miss Linda Layton to The Caning Chamber where she would show the promiscuous “starlet” that a girl’s bare bottom has other uses besides polishing the vinyl seat covers in her boyfriend’s autocar!
Chapter 14: Hairbrush Homecoming
Readers of the prior episodes of this series will recall that lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy and pretty Patsy Maidenly had been spending a year abroad at a very private finishing school for young ladies in Merrie England. Run by Lorna Jane’s aunt, Agatha Webster, who along with her imperious assistant Miss Frobisher brooked no insubordination, the girls were treated to all manner of discipline in their training to be women of society. In the last installment, Patsy was excused with an early graduation and dispatched to her mother back in America.
Six weeks after pretty Patsy had been given her “Certificate of Special Accomplishment” by Miss Webster and sent home to Indiana, lovely Lorna Jane was awarded a crested parchment certificate proclaiming her a full and successful graduate of Miss Webster’s “Polite Society Preparation Programme.”
Lorna Jane positively glowed with excitement as the impressive certificate was bestowed upon her in a small ceremony held in Birchwell’s magnificent drawing room. Several distinguished guests were present, including Lord Justice Bleary, Lord and Lady Leechmore, the Very Reverend Gerald Goodsoul, Colonel Canewell, O.B.E. (ret.), Basil Warpington (his camera at the ready!), and the omnipresent Miss Frobisher.
Both Miss Webster and Lord Justice Bleary gave speeches congratulating Lorna Jane on her accomplishments, and then a delightful luncheon was served in Birchwell’s grand dining hall. Needless to say, Lorna Jane was walking on air!
For the next two days the girl was occupied with getting her things in order and packing for her Trans-Atlantic trip. Lorna Jane’s mother, Mrs. Welworthy, had sent a first class, Pan American Airways ticket for her darling daughter’s return home. Not a few tears were shed by lovely Lorna Jane as she said her final farewells – and one exquisite “eeeek!” as Lord Justice Bleary administered a final, fond farewell pinch to the girl’s succulent, snugly skirted sitter.
It was a bright Wednesday morning when, Ferretson at the wheel, the ice-blue Bentley majestically pulled out of Birchwell’s long, curving drive. In the back, Lorna Jane sat between Miss Webster and Miss Frobisher. The girl was attired in a form-fitting pink wool suit, sheer tan nylons, glossy white patent leather spike-heeled pumps with matching handbag, little white gloves, and a white pill box hat. The suit top ended snugly at Lorna Jane’s shapely waist, providing – thanks to her tight skirt – an appealing view of one of the girl’s most attractive assets.
Ferretson, looking smart in his chauffeur’s livery, managed the baggage check-in while Lorna Jane exchanged warm farewell hugs and kisses with Agatha Webster and Miss Frobisher. Although the girl had experienced considerable strict discipline during her time at Birchwell, she had come to love and respect both older women – especially her Aunty Agatha, who was truly a remarkable and accomplished woman. Lorna Jane also realized that she had learned things that would serve her throughout life. She was indeed a fortunate girl!
Lorna Jane experienced a memorable thrill as the Boeing 707 jet took off with a mighty roar. The first class cabin was less than half full and the girl received “the royal treatment” from the pretty stewardesses. And later in the flight, the handsome captain left the controls to his co-pilot so he might visit the cabin and have a polite chat with his most attractive passenger.
The wonderful flight terminated, after some seven hours in the air, with a perfect, feather light landing. Lorna Jane was greeted with warm hugs and kisses from her Mother and her Daddy, who were delighted to have their darling daughter back in “the family fold”!
It took Lorna Jane two days to unpack everything and settle in once again to her parents’ imposing and beautifully-appointed home. The girl made a number of telephone calls, three of which were especially important. She contacted Miss Wiley, secretary to Miss MacFarlane, M.Ed., the Dean of Girls at Maydith College, to arrange an appointment with the latter. She also called her dearest girlfriend, Kathy Ann Goodchild and, of course, she contacted her beloved boyfriend, Rod Long, who was so excited to hear her voice he could hardly wait for their Saturday Night date which would occur in just a few days’ time.
Lorna Jane took her “Polite Society Preparation Programme” certificate to her meeting with Miss MacFarlane. The woman was appropriately impressed and gave Lorna Jane warm congratulations. She also told the girl there would be no impediment to her immediately re-commencing classes with the start of the quickly approaching second term at Maydith. Then Lorna Jane visited Kathy Ann in the latter’s private dormitory room, which featured an attractively appointed bedroom, a private bathroom, and a small kitchenette for making coffee, tea, and snacks.
Half an hour after Lorna Jane arrived at Kathy Ann’s accommodations, the two girls were lying on the bed in their form fitting skirt and sweater sets. Lorna Jane was busy showing her dear friend various of the photographs she had acquired during her stay at Birchwell. Suddenly, Kathy Ann put her arm around Lorna Jane and whispered, “Ouuuuhhh, dearest, I’ve missed you so!” Deeply moved, Lorna Jane blinked back a tear and whispered, “Ouuuuhhhh, darling, I dreamt about you when I was in England!”
Soon the two curvaceous lovelies were wearing only their garter belts and stockings and were entwined with a passion that reflected their long months of separation. One hour and seven orgasms later, the two girls lay exhausted in one another’s arms tenderly kissing and exchanging girlish pledges of love and devotion.
Home Is Where the Hairbrush Is
The next day, at about 3:45 in the afternoon, Mrs. Welworthy was checking food supplies in her modern, immaculate kitchen. The good woman’s maid had been given the afternoon off for a routine dental appointment. Lorna Jane was in the spacious living room browsing through a copy of Teen Topics.
