This is the first story from Ma, to see the rest click here…
…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=21078
Fancy a pint? Come on then, let’s go to the village of Cumley Bottom, it is a typical English village from the days of yore, which carries its traditions into modern times. Set upon the dusty track by the village green, it is a ‘Mock Tudor’ building, adorned with flowers. The sign is a beautiful blushing bottom, freshly spanked, it swings on squeaky chains on a creaking oak bracket.
The serving wenches serve with their bare bottoms on show, and get smacks all day long, lovely smiling, pleasantly voiced girls, who love a good smack on the rump.
In the corner is Ma, a stout middle aged woman. Sat on a stool by her side at a piano, is Pa. she tells stories, spanking stories, he….just now and then….tinkles a little accompaniment.
There is always a rather rowdy, ribald crowd, with plump bare bottomed lasses on their knees giggling. The majority are plump older women, with ‘their girl’. We go and sit, she is about to start a tale….not verse, not poetry, but something akin to Chaucer, and his Canterbury tales.
You sit, I bring two mugs of ale, they call it the witch’s brew, bloody hell it is strong stuff!
A little tune is played, we sup our first gulp, look at the bottoms on show, and settle down for a blushing bottom tale of spanking…
She sits, legs open, her chin on her hand, elbow on knee. “Hello all, I think you’ll like this un!”
Aphrodite Prayer
Now Penny of the parish committee was a woman of the world.
She prided herself on this view, and never minded a foible or two
Indeed she had some herself.
Her friend Natasha, known as Tasha, equally short of stature,
A pocket battleship, was a Norland Nanny.
One early morning fair, whilst out for a walk, Penny and Tasha strolled past the church. As oft they did when Tasha was home on leave.
A window was open in that small space known as the vestry. As they passed by an unmistakable sound emanated out, rooting them to the spot.
A sound known at once to generations.
And in this instance to Penny and Tasha for different reasons.
They heard the slap of hand on cheek, with rhythm and pace
It meant one thing.
A bare-spanking was in play
Someone was having their due, but who?
Now Tasha and Penny were torn, the two
By duty and desire. The duty of discretion , and the desire to find out whose
Bottom bare was in the air turning white to pink, perhaps to red
The voice on the air, it was familiar,
The ‘ows, ahs, gosh, that stings’
What added to the piquancy was Penny and Tasha’s response
Penny had been a spanking mum, a spanking wife as well,
No stranger herself to give and receive
It had been a while since she had turned anyone over her knee
Tasha had a memory, when just turned 18, bare in the air with grin on her face, came flooding back at once.
For Tasha a bottom bare was bliss, to give and receive was heaven
It was an irony, and a little sad, that Norland Nannies no longer spanked
Except in special cases. She’d even tried to have the class of spank re-formed. So girls could learn technique, if called.
At once and in unison, they both felt the tingle and the burn
They simply must look, but not be seen or they both might go over the knee of enthusiastic newbie, old-time Vicar. Mind you, thought Tasha naughtily, that might not be such a bad thing. Ladies of the PPC over a knee – it had a certain ring
Penny had a half-hearted attempt at dissuading them both: “Natasha, its wrong to take a peak at a private meeting, bottoms bare or not. If you insist, I’ll spank your bare to kingdom come…”
Tasha said “now Penny, you know you want to and as parish council member it is your business to know what’s what, which includes Vicar’s tendency –he is quite new. Call it parish practicalities, and by all means I’ll bend and bare for old fashioned justice when we are through…”
Now it so transpired that there was a bench below that window open
Being not too tall, both women stood on it and peered through.
And what a sight met their eyes. Vicar sat, trousers at knees, his own bare cheeks upon the chair wood (Tasha nodded in approval). Across his lap lay a bottom bare of sizable girth, and rounded cheek being turned white to pink with vigour and vim. In short he was giving it what for with a good deal of welly thrown in. But who was the owner of those bare acres? She could be heard, but face not seen.
At first, Penny thought, it could be Laywoman Lawson, known as Michelle – a very similar size and shape, but no, the voice was not quite right to be her.
Though Penny had a sudden urge to see Michelle in that state of grace and give her what for, as come-back for her slights and slurs.
No, it was not Michelle. Then she got it. The bottom bare its owner fair was Mrs F – she lived next door. Well, well, well. Matriarch of six herself, of Family Frobisher: a husband, two daughters, two sons, a nephew and a niece. She was no stranger to give and receive, that time honoured fashion of women and men.
Every week for many a year, Friday night to be exact, time of the Frobisher family spank. She would preside, magisterially, for all to see through kitchen window the panorama. Over her lap, hems, trousers and panties down, bottoms bare in the air receiving the benison of spanking palm, the household would go – including anyone else to hand. Now all right thinking followers of spank know the old saying that “all is fair when bottoms are bared and spankers are spanked, and all shall be well”. Mrs F followed this through. When she was done, her own cheeks were roasted and toasted in their turn, by the assembled company. It was quite a sight to see. Penny as neighbour had a first-class seat, over the garden fence.
The command in that voice, the size of the bare, Penny and Tasha were transfixed. Then clear as a bell Mrs F changed tack, from ‘ows!, ahs! ohs!, she then began to instruct.
As Vicar spanked she advised in clear stentorian tones: “now Vicar, dear, technique to use is outside in/alternate cheeks then up and down and right to left, then left to right across”. The Vicar complied, fell into a rhythm and the music of hand on bare cheek filled the air. You all know the drill.
The watching pair, by now quite frizzy, could hardly tear themselves away. By some instinct, Penny knew the scene before them was going to change. She motioned to Tasha, and they sat back down on the bench to catch their breath. Tasha whispered “wow, wee, that’s Mrs F from next door to you. I’m so impressed, she’s teaching her technique to Vicar – receiving what for!”.
Penny got a little cross said “will you be quiet or we’ll be caught and then we’ll see who gets it. I’ve a good mind to wallop you now, am in the mood, Lord knows. If I know Mrs F, tables are about to be turned, which we should watch – so your bottom bare can wait for a spectacle that’s rare – our Vicar is clearly a spanking giver, not receiver and he’s about to get it from Mrs F good and proper, if my name’s not Penny!”
Tasha just tingled a great deal more, and longed for her fingers to go and explore down in that place which sends you to space, but that could wait, and Mrs F’s own technique she just had to see. (A little plan formed in her head).
Sure enough a ringing instruction rang out, clear as a bell, which was their cue to resume their viewing position: “right, Vicar, I think you’ve covered the terrain. Now we change places and I show you how it’s done. Only fair when bottoms are bare that givers are also receivers”.
Well Vicar look startled but in the face of matronly will, he complied. It was indeed quite a scene. Mrs F pushed herself off the spanking lap, bottom bare red-pink all over – majestic and regal, plump and broad, Tasha thought, with possibly the deepest cleft she had ever in her young life seen. In that moment a plan was formed that before she left for Norland-land, she would pay a visit to that lap, if she could possibly afford. Tasha felt the juices flowing, and had to restrain from bursting in on that scene, crying “please, please, spank me!”
To business at hand. There happened to be a full-length mirror standing by, the Vicar was vain, but it served a purpose. Mrs F, whilst Vicar stood hard by, in more ways than one, Mrs F inspected the job done full-length: “not bad, Vicar, for a first go, you’ll learn in time how I like it done. And now, your turn. Over my lap my boy and right now, am in the mood for a thwacking show. Since I have had an empty nest, have only my husband to keep me in test, the occasional visitor and guest. Mind you, when the twins two doors down return from Uni, they come and get a term’s worth truly. It’s not quite the same to keep the zest. Which is where the plan to revive the tradition of spanking the choir comes in. Enough chat, my fire is back”.
She sat down on that vestry chair, creaking slightly under the weight of bare acre, which made Tasha giggle. Her freshly spanked cheeks on wood nestled. She was ready! Vicar went over, displaying a bare quite boyish but chunky, too much indulgence and not enough fasting. In looks both fore, and aft, Penny was reminded of Finn, husband and partner to Laywoman Lawson, who as it happened gave and received as Penny suspected (found out on a visit one night). A spanking husband and a spanking wife was quite the zeitgeist among the 40 somethings. Equal opportunities.
Well, that boyish bare which was ivory white soon started turning pink. As Mrs F spanked so she instructed, she just couldn’t help it: “now Vicar, its all about rhythm and flow, rhythm and flow, varying speed, altering pace, alternate cheeks. Raising the hand half-way – crash it down – the hand full way – wallop! – Now a flurry, now three, one on each cheek, one in the crease, a hammer hand, an open palm, now six hard to finish”.
Well what a tour de force. In minutes that man without his cloth had gone from white to deepest red. Tasha could hardly stop herself from blurting “hooray, well done!”. Now Vicar was a chap and it was evident that lying over the lap his nature-given ‘hood had grown somewhat. Mrs F had foreseen this and carefully placed it between her legs as she had spanked away – imagine the scene without difficulty – which of course had rubbed it. The delights of a spanking for a chap is that he can get pleasure at two ends, which has a result, put delicately. Now Mrs F knew all this – of course she did – being a woman of not just a few summers and a matriarch to boot. Which is why she firmly believed that a chap who submitted to the indignity should occasionally have his reward. She kept a flannel nearby, said whilst reviewing her own handiwork “don’t worry Vicar, I’ll mop up and all will be well with the world. She reached down and very discreetly tugged a bit more. For long experience of boys and men she knew ‘better in than out’. To ‘clear the gunwales’ was, she thought, in every respect a very healthy thing.
The effect on Vicar was as you’d expect – electric is the word. In his rather naïve point of view he had not quite connected, to hit a nail on the head as the women in this story no doubt would, spanking with the rather obvious something else. He got the message in spades. He bucked and weaved over that lap and when Mrs F both tugged and slapped, he went to heaven and back. This was so much better than solo flights, (though in time to come he would learn the delights of self-spank in shortage of another).
When all was calm they had a moment, spanker and spankee, Vicar and Mrs F. She said: “now Vicar, just one more thing, a matter of etiquette. When spanking is done, it is customary, in my line at least, to offer thanks. So this is how. Stay where you are in recumbent state, and reach round back and clasp my cheeks. Repeat after me: I give thanks to Aphrodite, the original mistress of the bottom bare spank. You are a worthy successor, may your days be long and your bottom loved”. This the Vicar did. The deed was done.
Now Tasha and Penny withdrew from the view, in fair old agitated state. Tasha needed to relieve herself in more than ways than one. Penny had an overwhelming desire to spank a bare. A naughty solution came to both:
“Now Penny, my dear”, said Tasha “I know I have been out of line as chum and deserve attentions to my bare bum. May I say, we’ve just had a masterclass in how it’s done from Mrs F, shall we set to?”
Penny said, “What, now and here? Tasha, darling girl, you’ve’ got a walloping coming your way, hell or high water, but what do you mean? I’m taking you home by the ear, to deal with your rear…”.
Tasha said, “Penny, now listen we’re both hot and bothered. No need to go far. This churchyard’s large, let’s find a grave stone and you can set to…”
An outraged Penny said “the very idea! What impertinence. That thought alone earns extra thwacks”. She thought again, and in her state assented to the plan. For she was so turned on another thought was forming in her mind. “Right my girl, you are one! I know the very spot. You, come with me!”.
And with that she took Tasha by the ear – it seemed right in the moment of these two without favour or fear, and down to the churchyard deep end they went. Penny was ready to give what for and Tasha was burning for that and more. Penny realised what she had chosen when they reached destination – a very large stone, broad as a table. The old rules of the spank, of give and receive meant one thing if not the other. She would have to sit bare upon that stone whilst dishing it out. “You wicked minx!” she blurted out “high jump is where you’ll be!”. Well, Tasha did laugh and in her state just knew what the dealing would have to be. “yes, old girl, what a prank. To spank me on cold stone. We’ll soon warm up, you and I”.
Now both Penny and Tasha were quite plump but in a very attractive way. To Penny’s description you could add a little dumpy, and Tasha chunky. It had been some time between spanks, and Tasha carried some extra weight. More to whack, Penny thought, upon that she was determined. The Norland ‘mufti’ of that season were red dungarees, the colour of the house. Penny wore her Saturday trews, which she would rather have kept on, but rules are rules and fair is fair when bottoms are bare and spankings dealt out. This she knew. Tasha, in suggestive mode which was bound to earn her extra slaps, said “let’s disrobe or otherwise unveil together”.
And so it came to pass, if you or I or another, could see that scene. Penny unbuckled and pushed down her trews, revealing de riguer pants from Raegar, diaphanous and black, which caused Tasha to let out a snort, “Gosh, they’re posh – got a new fella?”. This wisecrack landed like a lead balloon, which increased the ferocity of Penny’s ire. Without further ado, the time had come, down came the panties to reveal a bare bum of surprising grace and quite some style: large, broad, plump but quite in proportion to its owner’s frame. Tasha, for once that day, shut her mouth and admired the view, one she had not seen for a while. Penny’s custom hitherto was to defy the rule of ‘giver on bare cheeks’, but since Mrs F bravura performance, that had changed.
Now it was Tasha’s turn – her long-suffering spanker was getting impatient so she should complete the task , or else. Besides, it was getting a little cold. English graveyards are never warm. So, Tasha without much further ado, unbuttoned the dungarees. The flaps unflapped, hooks were unhooked and buttons undone, until at last the trews and panties came down (not Raeger but M&S) revealing a sight of total delight – a deeper-cheeked rear of width and girth. Penny gave out a cry of delight – “what an inheritance my dearest friend – your splendid bottom bare – which in time will no doubt be passed on to generations yet unborn”.
In due time, this joyous fact would be shared with parish ladies as they discussed the merits and joys of bottoms bare and spanking matters, over each other’s knee as it turned out, on Wednesday nights at Ladies Group. But that was for the near future. There and then, in real time, there was some proper action due.
Penny sat on very cold stone, at first a yelp and then a wriggle, then settled her cheeks in for the duration. Tasha draped over the matronly knee, Penny, though bursting at the seams to begin, stroked the target of her frustration and admiration – the magnificent moon of her pal. So recalling some of the lesson learnt from this morning’s tutorial show, she raised her hand above those cheeks and whapped it down as first shot in an opening salvo. The barrage went on and Tasha did shout out, most satisfactorily “ow!, Oh!, Ah!, aaah” and of course then added “that hurts!”. It is an old line but time-served.
To which Penny replied in her cosmic script “of course my sweet – it is meant to!”. And then she went on to pepper that terrain with wallops and blows as she had promised. She remembered the watchwords of Mrs F – rhythm and flow, rhythm and flow, inside out, alternate cheeks, up and down, left to right. Deep in the hearts of these bare-bottomed women a re-bonding was setting forth – each appreciating the other’s physique and being, both of the flesh and of the mind. Tasha’s bottom bare did go from white to pink and on to red. She bucked and weaved, weaved and bucked, yelled and screamed, with pleasure and pain, more in delight it must be said.
Well, another thing which Penny noticed, was not surprising in itself but she took with utmost discretion and tact, although she was feeling very like that herself – a wetness on the lap where Tasha’s weight was bearing. Her instinct was to ignore but note – Tasha would sort that on her own. Yet, she took it as a compliment that she and Tasha could share such things – a bottom bare, the natural juices, all so healthy – that a spanking sometimes produces when done as it should be – vigorously, as Mrs F would say.
Tasha meanwhile was lost in an ecstatic bliss – her bottom stung like crazy. When at last the business finished she asked her mentor a special favour which touched Penny to the core: “Gosh, your spanking hand is tip top shape these days. Are my cheeks red, they feel that way, but are behind so cannot see” :
“yes my dear, they certainly are, a sunset glow I must say – quite satisfactory on this day of major lessons and surprises!”.
“ o Penny! At times you sound so pompous!” which earned her another thwack “but could I do as Mrs F asked Vicar, and reach around to touch your cheeks, and invoke the Aphrodite prayer?”
Tasha reached round and grabbed those matronly ovals. Penny bucked in surprise at Tasha’s touch –she had large hands and it felt, well, grand, to coin an Irish phrase. They both invoked the prayer newly learned “ I give thanks to Aphrodite, the original mistress of bottom bare spank. You are a worthy successor, may your days be long and your bottom loved”. It was indeed a moment of bonding, through bare bottom spanking, woman to woman.
So Tasha over lap, bare in the air, in turn squeezing Penny’s cheeks. She then announced in a while, as all is fair and all is fine with Penny the same touching and patting the target fair, transfixed and with a far away look. Then came the realisastion and the announcement: “Time to swap places, o chum of mine. In three words, it’s my turn! So over my lap you go.” And so it was, and so she did. Give and receive.
Thanks to the church, the Lord above, Vicars and local matriarchs. And of course the mistress of Spank herself, Aphrodite of the Beautiful Bare Acre and Bottom Bare – who else?
KVW Yolandine
Note
Now I know you are going to be curious, be patient, all will be explained.
Asa
