Woman to Woman Spanking (WWS) is presented by Scarlett Hill Entertainment (SHE), 1329 Hwy 395 North, Suite 10-

298, Gardnerville NV 89410 USA, www.scarletthill.com, as a freely expressive celebration of the rights of consenting
adults to enjoy whatever consensual, alternative pleasures they so choose. SHE assumes no responsibility for opinions or
veracity of statements expressed in any department of this publication & does not support, condone, or advocate assault,
domestic violence, or child abuse. Unless specifically stated, any resemblance of characters appearing herein to persons,
living or dead, is purely coincidental. Entire contents of this publication are protected under international copyright laws
for print & electronic media & may not be copied &/or reproduced in any form without the express, written permission of
SHE. Copyright © Scarlett Hill Entertainment 2012 &/or individual authors/creators/producers as stated herein. The e-
mag edition of this fanzine is in full compliance with 18 U.S.C. § 2257 & ALL participants in the making of it were happily
willing participants over the age of 18 years as we always DEMAND they be. Proof on file of course.
Hello & thanks for joining us for the latest, greatest &, yes,
long overdue evolution of WWS & the whole flaming family of
adult spanking fanzines that sprang from the simple, single-
What’s New!?
sheet with a staple at the top, blog-style newsletter I whipped Well, the drastically delightful difference
up way back in 1990 with what was then state of the art between color & gray scale graphics
desktop publishing computer software & printed up on the displayed above & below &...
copy machine in my office after hours so no one would know
that I & the spanking friends who helped me were as Style!
“perverted” as all us were regarded at that still repressed time. BLOGS, or personal sites for our oldest-
The “spanking scene” was just beginning to bloom &, to cut fashioned kin, have become the rage, so
my usually long story short, Barb, I & our old-fashioned friends we’ve modeled our new format after them &,
& fans have had a historic, almost 23 year run now churning for the first time, included favorite finds
out modest but meaty, gray scale fanzines. But times & the from around the web with comments,
publishing trade have changed &, I freely admit, they & the recommendations &...
technologies I was once on top of passed me by so long ago
that this upgrade took longer than it should have.
I do regret the delay, & any flaws you might come across in this Interactivity!
first creation using the new software & format that we are. I promise Meaning, links you can use to jump right to
we'll improve as quickly as we can &, in the meantime, trust you'll any site that interests you right from this
approve & help us be the best we can be with any suggestions or fanzine if you’re on-line. And e-mail your
comments. Thanks again! Enjoy!! - Michael Constantine comments, too
 A Little Exhibitionism Goes a LONG Way!
WE ALL HAVE AT LEAST ONE HOT STORY TO TELL, and I’m sharing this one at Barb’s request
to encourage all you to do the same and everything else you possibly can to enjoy the gift we’ve
been given to the fullest as I, Barb, Michael and many others like us have since this incredible,
opportunity rich, new, web-wide spanking world was just a wishful dream.
I’m a married, 46 year-old mother of two who has led a spank-happy double life since the age
of 13 when my love of being spanked  especially where others could see & hear  began in the
manager’s office of the little movie my mother caught me in instead of at the library where I
was supposed to be.
Getting punished at the movies wasn't the first time mom spanked me, or even the first time
someone saw what a spectacle I made of myself while she made my bare bottom burn and sting
until I had kick, bawl and beg like a baby. Mom was as old-fashioned and “spare the rod, spoil
the child” religious as most of the other parents in the conservative part of the country I’m
from, and didn’t cotton to the anti-spanking crusade any more than most. She also wasn’t
prudish about punishing me and my older in the kitchen, living room, den or other public room
of the house when we were young and she decided to spank.
I wasn’t particularly shy about my brother, father or cousins seeing me get stripped and
spanked when I was a girl, but I didn’t get any special kick out of it, either. I just feared
spankings more than monsters and spiders and steered clear of any mischief or misbehavior
that might get me one from mom, my aunts, or the scary old principal at school, who was
reputed to be a real sadist when she got a kid alone in her office and over her bony knees.
I can’t say if the stories about her were true because I didn’t dare do anything to be sent to
her for punishment. But I doubt that she or anyone spanked any longer and harder than my old-
fashioned, ranch-raised, do it right when you have to tan a hide mother.
Mom wasn’t spank-happy and didn’t need to be after she taught my brother and me that hell
on earth dwelled on her lap and in the palm of her hand. A warning would usually do. But she
had her rules to live by, was strict about school, and swift to turn my brother or me over her
knee and spank the sass, silliness and snot out of us when we did something to deserve it.
Mom spanked hard when she had to and longer than I wanted her to. She stopped spanking
my older brother when he sprouted pubic hair at 13, and I expected the same when I became a
woman at 12. But mom said it was different since I was a girl when I brought it up, and
threatened to prove that I wasn’t too mature to kick and cry over her lap as usual right there
and then in the kitchen when I started to argue with her.
My older brother was upstairs in his room and the idea of him hearing or, heaven forbid,
sneaking down to watch the new womanly me get my bare bottom spanked until I was
frantically flopping around and flashing my recently furred femininity for him to see was to
shockingly shameful, sexy, and complex for me to comprehend until many years later. I
idolized my big brother, and had a big crush on him too, I suppose. He’d heard and seen me get
spanked a couple of times before, but I wasn’t a girl anymore!
 I was convinced that I was too mature to be punished like a child, but I knew better than to
brook a spanking warning from mom. You only got one. And I couldn’t claim that the strange,
squishy new things I felt at the thought of my brother watching backed up my beliefs. But they
did and, although I didn’t know it, those feelings touched me, followed me, and came bubbling
back up about a year later when I “got too big for my britches” as mom growled while she
peeled mine down and proceeded to give me the hardest and most humiliating spanking a
budding young woman of 13 could ever get!
I’d made the classic mistake of believing I could outsmart mom by splitting my Saturday
between the movies and the library instead of spending all day completing an assignment I’d
put off to the last minute as I’d been begun to do over my last months at elementary school.
The library and theater were next door to each other and I knew I didn’t need all day to finish
my schoolwork, but mom wouldn’t budge when I said so or buy my explanation that slacking off
at the end was normal, okay and supported by all of my teachers except the jack-ass who’d
come up with the stupid assignment for me and my classmates when she confronted me.

Delightful drawings accompanying this & other letters in this issue courtesy of/in tribute to the lasting legacy of the late,
great George Churchward, a spanking artist of the recent past with a pleasant penchant for, as you can, older Fem
spanks younger Fem fare & the talent to bring his visions to life, although through old-fashioned grayscale sketches like
this one artfully colored by an avid fan & the other similarly enhanced originals we’ve picked to showcase in this first color
issue. If you’ve seen any before somewhere on-line, we trust you’ll enjoy seeing them again & more here as illustrations
to our written erotica! Oh and, Thanks, F. Steiner, whoever & wherever you are!
 Mom was always strict about school and grades and I always did my best as she demanded.
Getting good grades was easy for me and I liked being praised a heck of a lot more than
punished or motivated over mom’s lap as my lazier and bolder brother needed to be at least
once a year to apply himself to schoolwork instead of the sports he loved and was good at.
To my adolescent frustration, fury and shame, Mom had threatened to melt off a few layers
of the baby fat that still clung to my bottom and to help my britches fit better when I wouldn’t
roll over and back down. So, I knew I’d get spanked if she caught me disobeying her orders. But
I didn’t expect her to catch me or suspect that she had until Mr. Cook, the theater manager,
appeared out of the darkness and tapped me on the shoulder.
I was watching the movie, and feeling good and smug as I munched and sipped on the
popcorn, candy and soda I’d bought on the way in. But Mr. Cook startled the good feelings
right out of me when he told me to come with him and refused to say why. I could only think of
one explanation for the interruption and silently prayed and promised to never lie or be
naughty again if my mother wasn’t standing in the lobby with her arms crossed and her jaw
tightly clenched as I expected her to be.
I was relieved when I went into the lobby and mom wasn’t there. I looked at Mr. Cook with
wide, inquiring eyes, but he just told me to follow him again and led me up the employee
staircase to the second floor and down a long hallway past the projection booth, some other
doors and, finally, to his private office.
I wondered what was going on, but I couldn’t and didn’t want to believe the worst until the
theater manager opened his door and I saw my mother sitting there looking as mad as I’d
feared! I stopped dead in my tracks and gasped, groaned and, probably, gnashed my teeth as
all the fear I’d felt came rushing back with extra terror on top now that I knew I was caught and
going to be spanked as long as hard as I ever had been if not worse.
It didn’t occur to me that mom might punish me there and then, even when Mr. Cook said he
would leave the two of us alone and walked out, gently closing the door behind him. I was too
traumatized to think of that or anything to say to save my ass, and mom was too furious to give
me time before she shot to her feet, took my hand, and pulled me towards the straight-backed
chair she’d been sitting on in front of Mr. Cook’s desk.
Mom yanked me over her lap before I could believe what was happening and pinned me down
before I could wriggle away. I begged her not to spank me in the office and told her I’d die of
shame if anyone heard. But she just told me to hush, and said it was either here or on the stage
of the theater downstairs where everyone could watch and learn a lesson about what happens to
lying, sneaky daughters like me.
“Is that what you’d like me to do, Candice? Let everyone see what a big baby you are when
you get spanked!” Mom growled as she reached around to undo my jeans. “Is it?”
I moaned, “Ohhh noooo!”, although not in response to my mother’s ridiculous question.
I knew how mad mom was and how hard she could spank, and although I had matured and
considered myself all grown up, I knew my bigger, shapelier seat was as soft and sensitive as it
always had been when I couldn’t stop my wails from letting my brother, father, neighbors and
everyone within earshot know that I was being spanked.
I felt fear and shame grip me like it always did when I was going to get spanked, only way
more intensely as mom worked my jeans and panties down to my knees in the manager’s office
at the movie theater! I told myself that I had to and could take a hand spanking and survive
with some shreds of dignity intact if I bit my lip, shut my eyes, clenched my now bare buns, and
prayed for at least that much mercy from above.
Mom started slapping my chubby buns as hard and fast as she ever had across both cheeks
and between them too as soon as she bared my spank spots. At first, I managed to swallow my
yelps and squeals as the burning sting of her slaps quickly overwhelmed me, but I couldn’t do
anything about the loud cracks of her punishing palm or stifle my natural reactions for long as
mom's hard hand came down in one seemingly continuous spank, like one of those repeating
rifles... CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
My bottom instantly burst into a raging bonfire and no amount of will power or lip biting
could keep me from kicking, squealing and venting the agony that consumed me. I didn’t worry
about anyone in the theater downstairs hearing, but I was sure anyone closer would get an
earful and suspected that Mr. Cook, the theater manager who’d obviously conspired with mom,
hadn’t granted us the privacy he’d promised and was smiling outside his office door.
Mom’s callused hand was much harder than my young hide, and even more hellishly hurtful
and merciless than I remembered as it continued to slap my burning, stinging seat and drive
any concerns about making a spectacle of myself away. I’m sure it wasn’t the eternity it seemed
like at the time before I started to really howl. And I doubt it was long after that when I started
thrashing around over mom’s lap and blubbering out apologies and pleas for her to stop.
As I knew she would, Mom spanked and spanked me until I couldn’t care about making a sorry,
shameful spectacle of my 13 year-old self, and I didn’t until I tossed my head and enough tears out
of my eyes to catch semi-clear sight of a door behind us. I’d assumed the door led to closet or
bathroom when I first saw it, and couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the blurry shape of a figure
leaning through it.

Being bare backside up, the figure was upside down, and I couldn’t stop bawling or blink my
eyes clear enough to make out the facial features. But there definitely was someone there
watching me get bare bottom spanked like a bad little girl over my mother’s knees, and the view
they had of me from behind was the most immodest possible!
I didn’t know what to do or think within the limited options at my disposal as mom
continued to punish me. I could tell from the shape of the figure’s hairdo that it was an older
female. But I didn’t know who she was and she didn’t disappear or turn away when I fixed my
gaze on her and fruitlessly tried to blink my waterlogged vision clear!
I was blubbering too hard to accomplish that, and in too much pain to make my body stop
squirming, kicking, and bucking in the most embarrassingly revealing ways. I would have shed
new tears of shame if I wasn’t crying as hard as I could already, and I would have alerted mom
to the presence of the intruder just to get her to stop slapping my burning bottom. But I was
sobbing too hard to say anything she could understand and unable to point or gesture with
mom holding my arm in the small of my back.
I knew what it felt like to be humiliated, hurting and helpless over mom’s lap from previous
experience, but the stranger watching me get my 13 year-old buns blistered in the theater
manager’s office made the ordeal I endured that day that much more unique and unforgettable
than anything I’d been through before.
Mom finally stopped spanking me and the peeper slid back behind the door without a sound
we could hear over the sounds of my heartfelt suffering. Mom held me over her lap until I got
my hysterics under control. Then she helped me up, hugged me tight, told me she loved me,
and said she hoped I wouldn’t make her spank me again.
I sniffled that I never would, and lived up to my vow. After that spanking, I didn’t want
another or think I ever would. I was sure the vivid memories that plagued me and the strange
feelings and fantasies they stirred were due to trauma and would fade. But, of course, they
didn’t and only grew stronger the longer I tried to bury them.
I was 18 and a cute, college freshman when I learned why I couldn’t shake my sinful desires
and stopped trying. By then, I was too big and old for mom or any straight woman to think that
turning me over their knee and spanking my bare bottom burning-red was proper. But there
were still some cowboys around, and I eventually found one who was daring, open-minded, and
adventurous enough to win my heart and heart-shaped bottom!
My husband-to-be wasn’t into spanking as much as the benefits he got after I was all heated
up outside and in when I introduced him to it. But he was good at it, and got into fast and far
enough to be the first to get me to tell my story. It totally amazed him as I knew it would,
thoroughly aroused him as I expected, and absolutely intrigued him as I hoped it would.
He was as eager to watch me get my bare bottom spanked over another woman’s lap as the
bookkeeper in the theater the day my lies and deceit did me in. I found out that’s who the
woman was on the way out, and knew she was the peeper from her hairdo, the color of her
blouse, and the big, beaming smile she flashed into my wide-eyes when I spotted her standing
beside the concession stand next to Mr. Cook on the way out.
The smirk on his face and the twinkle I saw in his eyes when mom thanked him for his help
confirmed my suspicion that he hadn’t strayed far from his office and liked what he heard. I
was mortified and hurried out of that theater as fast as I could. And I never went back. But I
left my innocence behind in Mr. Cook’s office, and what happened to me there that Saturday
followed me everywhere like a shadow only I could see until I told my husband-to-be. He was
the only one I expected to ever tell, and the last I expected to encourage me to do something
about the memories and desires that had driven me ever since when I did.
I’d underestimated my man, and the attraction my naughty secret held for him. Talking about
it turned him on as much as me, and wanting to make me happy turned him into the first
confidant, co-conspirator and cheerleader I ever had.
Unfortunately, that was in the late 1980’s when finding other spanking fans and women
willing to spank me in front of my mate without revealing ourselves was fruitless, especially in
the conservative part of the country we settled in when we married after college. My man and I
agreed that there had to be oodles of other big bad girls like me and women itching to get their
palms on their bare bottoms out there, and enjoyed imagining who they were and which ones
were still getting and giving out spankings behind closed doors. There just had to be some,
especially in the conservative part of the country we were raised and settled in!
Playing word games trying to find out if a women we encountered was spanking inclined or
experienced sometimes was fun and filled the years that passed. My husband and I collected a
passel of cute reactions, some cheeky comebacks, and a few quick recollections. But none of our
encounters led to more, and with nothing else to do, we resigned ourselves to enjoying the
private spanking role-plays and pleasures we’d expanded on during our marriage to include
switching, light bondage, and anal submission sometimes to spice things up.
Finally, my husband found an alternative lifestyle newspaper that had a personal ad section
for swingers and kinky people of all kinds. There weren’t many ads from spankers and none for
us. But an ad from a BDSM club that proclaimed spankers were welcome and always active
caught our eye. The club was in a city far enough away to afford the privacy we needed, and
the social setting seemed safer and easier for us to find what we sought.
My husband and I talked all about visiting the club, and both got so hot and bothered
discussing it that we had to stop and make love before we finished and picked a date two weeks
away. The club was only open on weekends, so we decided that we should go on a Saturday
night since it all started on a Saturday for me.
I grew nervous as the night we picked drew near, and got so scared of what might happen
and, particularly, of being disappointed after so many years of wanting, wishing and fantasizing
that I would have changed my mind if my husband hadn’t been by my side to encourage me.
We didn’t know what to expect at all as we drove off on our naughty adventure, and almost
turned around when the club turned out to be in a part of the city dominated by warehouses
and industrial buildings. It seemed dark, desolate and dangerous on a Saturday night, and we
both worried and wondered if we should get out of there. But we decided that we couldn’t and,
thankfully, we didn’t before we saw several seemingly normal looking people saunter through
the black door with some kind of a symbol painted on it that marked the club’s entrance.
The door was set in an old, brick building that looked like the run down and shuttered
business it had once been from the outside. But, to our pleasant surprise, the lobby it led to
was clean, well lit, and decorated with tastefully suggestive paintings and a wall full of photos
of people smiling and engaging in what looked like mutually satisfying acts of BDSM.
Most of the people in the pictures wore masks to protect their identities, but not all. As my
husband paid our entrance fee and chatted with the doorman, I found myself fixating on one
pleasant looking and unabashedly bold woman I saw in a bunch of pictures. She looked old
enough to be my mother, and matronly with broad shoulders and a big beam of a lap from
which I was delighted to see women and men of various ages hanging bare bottom up in various
stages of blushing through the spankings the beaming woman was obviously administering!
I didn’t know who the woman was, but I felt like I did and the tingle in my tummy told me
that she could be “the one”. I hoped so, and prayed that she was there that night. But I
suddenly wasn’t sure if I could approach her if she was, and I might not have or let my husband
do it for me if the doorman didn’t notice me pouring over her photos and pointing her out to
my husband when he joined me.
The doorman’s black beard made him look devilish, and the black leather outfit and
accessories he had on seemed sinister. But he was really a pleasant, friendly, and experienced
lifestyler who knew newbies when he saw them and enjoyed helping them out. He told us the
woman was a charter member of the club named Gretchen and that she was inside. Then he said
that she loved meeting first timers and asked if we’d like him to introduce us?
The doorman’s eyes settled on me as he finished, and I knew he knew it was me who’d
brought us to the club and why. I also sensed that he was telling me that Gretchen was the one
for me, and suddenly grew flustered, feverish with excitement, and as frightened as when I first
realized what my mother intended to do to me in Mr. Cook’s office when I was 13.
Seventeen years had passed since mom bared and spanked my bottom in the theater
manager’s office. But I’d kept my memories and fantasies fresh, and suddenly feeling them all
again at once made me want to run, stay and squeeze my husband’s hand so fiercely that he
looked down at me.
Under the bizarre circumstances, he looked a little nervous and uncertain himself when our eyes met. But
he was a rock compared to me, and reassured me as best he could with a smile before turning back to the
doorman to accept his offer and thank him for his help. The doorman nodded, smiled and led us down a hall
into a strange, scary and surreal new world. Being old-fashioned spankers on our first visit to a BDSM club, my
husband and I had never seen elaborate instruments of torture and restraint like those that suddenly
surrounded us or scenes like those being played out on some of them.
The club’s interior was dimly lit by colored lights and the spill from those strategically
spotlighted areas set up for play. They reminded me of department store displays. But no
store I’d ever walked into showcased what I saw and heard going on, and no shoppers had ever
gathered to gawk at and gloat over the goods like the people I saw standing around the circles
of light or moving in the shadows between them.
Walking into that club was an eye-opening, gut-wrenching, what the heck have we gotten
ourselves into experience for my husband and me that grew in intensity with every step.
Especially for me. I tried to calm myself and seem like I fit in, but I couldn’t. I was too anxious,
excited and scared to keep from looking around to see how many people were there and check
out Gretchen before she suddenly appeared in front of me.
It was too dark to make out the faces, features, or even genders of some of the shapes I
could see sitting at the tables that ringed the cavernous room, but the doorman knew where he
was going and led us right to Gretchen. She was seated at a table with three of her friends: Gail,
a girlishly cute, slightly chubby, single girl in her mid-twenties, and an older married couple in
their late-thirties who called themselves Tom and Tina and would have blended in with the
crowd at any mainstream event.
Not knowing what to expect and thinking the worst on the way in through the BDSM
equipment and leather clad crowd, my husband and I were pleasantly surprised and relieved by
 NICELY NAUGHTY PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF
SHE-SPANKS-SHE AFFECTION!
Proudly posed and posted on-line in the public domain for all of us to enjoy, too!

Not Gretchen, Candi nor any the lovely ladies featured in this letter, but close & certainly cheeky enough to
capture the naughty fun of public spanking play & cause the curious among us to wonder what it may have
led to behind closed doors if the mood & stars were as right as they look in these photos!

Pics above & some others in this issue were previously reprinted in old-fashioned grayscale & proudly presented here
again in their original, full blushing color glory. Wow! What a wonderful difference!! We hope you’ll agree, enjoy,
request color reprints of any pics that pricked your fancy in previous issues &, while we’re at it, share any your personal
favorites with or without comments for inclusion in future issues of our humbly historic & now newly modernized fanzine!
how normal everyone at the spankers table appeared to be. But Gretchen looked even more
perfect to me in person than in her pictures, and being in her presence intimidated me so much
that my voice shook and cracked when the doorman introduced us under the names we’d chosen
for the night: Harry and Sally after the characters in one of our favorite movies, “When Harry
Met Sally”.
No one snickered at my nervousness or seemed to mind that I let my husband carry our part
of the conversation after we were invited to sit and everyone around the table but me shared a
little about themselves and what they were into. My husband explained why we were there and,
although he didn’t say anything out of school, I felt flushed and feared I’d faint dead away until
Gretchen reached out to take my hand, squeeze it reassuringly, and tell me that everything was
fine and she would be proud and happy to spank me if I wanted her to.
My reservations melted when I looked up to thank her and found myself bathed in Gretchen’s
big, warm, beaming smile. It made me feel like I was finally home, and after listening to the
seemingly, nice, normal people surrounding me openly and proudly sharing their spanking
secrets and desires after hiding mine for so long, I opened up and things I’d never imagined
saying to strangers came gushing out in one big rush like a shook up bottle of pop.
My husband and everyone else at the table egged me on, and within a few minutes all of our
new acquaintances knew every naughty thing about me and more than my closest family and
friends. Finally baring my soul was incredible, exhilarating, exciting, and everything I hoped it
would be and more when Gail, Tina and I started teasing each other and bratting out like kids.
Gretchen let us have our fun and enhanced it with warm warnings and embarrassing
anecdotes about Gail, Tina and Tom, who, like my husband, didn’t like to admit just how turned
he got when he was spanked by a woman. Tom blushed but deny it, and I noticed my husband
looked a little embarrassed, too. I was feeling so free and bratty that I thought about finking on
him, but I didn’t and didn’t to.
Gretchen saw or sensed my husband’s discomfort, and gently but firmly told him by way of
congratulating Tom that it was brave to overcome sexist stereotypes and more manly to be true
to yourself than macho like most men thought they had to be. My husband wasn’t ready to
agree that first night, but he eventually wore down and did climb over Gretchen’s soft and firm
lap after watching her spank Tom and a couple of her other big boy fans at the club.
My husband rose from his first public spanking with a hard-on you could hang a hat from,
and I was dispatched to take care of him by Gretchen, which I happily did in the bathroom and
just as greedily as he took care of me after my first time that first night.
I was so turned on when I finally gave in and allowed Gretchen to scold, strip and spank me
on stage in front of my husband, Gail, Tina, Tom and all of the shadowy strangers who sidled
over to watch that I came several times and cried as hard as I had over my mother’s lap in the
theater manager’s office before my new surrogate mother stopped slapping my burning bottom.
However, as the woman who fulfilled my fantasies and everyone else who was there that
night knew from my passionate gyrations, pants, moans, and pleas to be spanked harder and
faster until pure lust and the pain enhanced pleasure of Gretchen’s slaps swept me away to the
stars and the most sensationally satisfying series of orgasms I’d ever experienced.
My audience’s eager and obvious excitement as they stood and shifted to get the best view of
me making a spectacle of myself as I kicked, bucked and shook my buns and pussy in their
faces from over Gretchen’s lap enhanced my lust tenfold, and gave me and my husband new,
unforgettable, and even more arousing memories to share together and favor over my childhood
spankings and all others.
I was so physically and emotionally spent that my husband had to come up on stage and
carry me off to the ladies’ room to clean myself up. But I recovered quickly and, realizing how
turned on my man was and how much I owed him for supporting me, I sank to my knees and
thanked him with all my heart and soul until he came twice and begged me to stop.
Inspired by our performance, Gail and Tina kept Gretchen busy on stage while we were gone,
and rushed off to the bathrooms together when she finished with Tom. My husband and I knew
what the three of them were up to and a little surprised. But, after the unbelievable but true
adventure we experienced, we understood and welcomed them back with knowing smiles when
they returned about 15 minutes later.
Everyone congratulated me for being brave and bold, and I felt a sense of bizarre pride for
being so brazen. But I had to and did defer all the accolades to Gretchen for her pictures,
warmth and wisdom in drawing me out and over her knee that first night and every night after
that my husband and I could sneak off to the club before word of what went on in that old brick
building leaked out it to the conservative, uptight asses and it was forced to close.
My husband and I were lucky to find our club, and to have no need to go looking for the friends
and magic we found there again after it
closed. We literally stayed in touch with
Gretchen, Tina, Tom and others and still get
together with some of them when we can.
We’ve used the internet to expand our circle
of friends and pleasures we can now enjoy at
our leisure from home.
Times have certainly changed and my
husband and I have enjoyed many spanking-
hot adventures. But I never did try writing
before, and hesitated to accept Barb’s
invitation to share my story in WWS for the
same reasons that kept me from rushing to
the when I saw their ad. But, just like then,
I’ve found friends waiting to help and
encourage me and thrills I wouldn’t have
known if I didn’t give it a try as I hope you
will if you’re one of the frustrated spanking
spirits yearning for freedom and satisfaction
out there. It’s out there waiting and worth it!
– Candi

W e’ v e sa id the sa me ourse lv e s ma ny t ime s

ov e r t he y e a rs, sw e et la d y , b ut nev e r be tt e r!
Ma n y t ha nks a nd p le a se d on’ t st op ! We
know y ou ha v e ma ny more wond e rful
st orie s to t e ll a nd insp ira t ion t o p rov id e
t hose of our kin w ho ca n b ut ha v e n’t p e e ke d
or st ep p e d out of t he c lose t ye t from home
or out in p e rson so me w he re ! – B & M

THE day devoted to letting your inner devil run free is on the horizon, so to celebrate the
holiday we love most & the spice of public spanking, we thought we’d present these hot

HOWL-OH-Weeen Party Pics Past & Present!

 AND provide an easy way to scope out some

List & party pic collage courtesy of spankingparties.blogspot.com a MUST SEE site for all blushing social
butterflies hosted by Todd & Suzy featuring solid information on upcoming events, testimonials & more.
(Click on name/links below to check out groups near you! Our kin are popping up everywhere these spanking-hot days!)
Atlanta BDSM Calendar Palms (Seattle)
Chastenwood (Seattle) Peaches (U.K.)
Crimson Moon (Chicago) Rose & Cheek (U.K.)
Delco Spankos (Philadelphia) SCONY (New York)
KC Spanks Club (Kansas City) Seaside Swats (San Diego)
Motor City Moonshiners SFCP (San Francisco)
N.E.S.S. (Boston) Shadow Lane (Las Vegas)
Needs & Desires (Chicago) Tampa Tanners (Florida)
Ouch Parties (London) Texas All State (Dallas)
Paddles Club (New York City) World Spanking Party (Spain)

Ladies, please do notice that 7 out of 8 of the pics in this collage are of our fave & obviously popular variety!
 Aunt's Intervention Saves Spoiled Niece's Marriage!
MY NAME IS JANICE AND MY HUSBAND'S NAME IS JERRY. We were introduced by my Aunt
Millie. She likes playing matchmaker, and THOUGHT we were perfect for each other. We
thought she was right when we met and quickly fell in love. We had everything in common and
it seemed like we were the perfect match Aunt Millie thought we would be. Then we got married
and everything changed. Okay, Jerry, not everything. Just me!
I learned my lesson and, yeah, needed and deserved it for taking advantage of Jerry's
generosity to stop working for a while. I'll admit that, but I really don't want to be doing it in
writing. Describing what happened "in my own words" is as embarrassing as what my aunt did
to me in front of my husband. But he loved it and gave me this "assignment" to complete my
penance, so I don't have a choice. Jerry likes his job and makes good money. My old job
sucked in every way and staying home sounded good to me. I like sleeping late and lazy,
relaxing days doing whatever I want better than getting up early to commute to a high-stress
job that takes an hour to get to and pays peanuts. Who wouldn't?
Not me. I liked it so much that I turned into a spoiled brat. There, I said it. I’ve seen the bright-
red, glowing light and won't blame my husband anymore. He doesn't deserve it and I don't want
him to ask Aunt Millie to "intervene" again as I know he’s dying to do. He just loved helping and
watching my second and better mother punish me and can’t shut up about what a big bad girl I
looked and sounded like before Aunt Millie finished spanking the spoiled and sass out of me!
I didn't suspect that’s why Jerry brought Aunt Millie home with him to “surprise” me on the night
of our first wedding anniversary. I also didn't know that he and my aunt had been talking about me
behind my back, or that Jerry was a customer of yours. He kept that secret to himself, and claims
he would have kept it to himself if my aunt hadn't told him secrets I'd kept from him when he
turned to her for advice behind my back
Jerry says he was pleasantly shocked and instantly excited when my aunt casually mentioned
that she knew just what I needed and wished I was 10 years younger so she could, "Turn me
over her knee and spank the spoiled out of me as she'd done before." He even remembers her
exact words! He’s also proud to boast about getting Aunt Millie going on about my youthful
misadventures, how my trips over her knee straightened me out, and, eventually, to agreeing
that 27 didn’t make me too old for her to try "intervening" that drastically to save our marriage.
I didn't know Jerry could be so sneaky or suspect a thing when he showed up with Aunt
Millie. I can’t believe it now, but I was actually happier to see her than him! Things had gotten
that bad in a year and I really didn't want to celebrate our anniversary at all and, especially,
alone with Jerry! All he did was bitch and pout about my housekeeping, spending, friends, and
every other thing I seemed to want or do. But I couldn't seem to please him, or shut him up!
I was too pissed to notice Jerry not cowering as he usually did I scowled at him and went blissfully
on about NOT turning to Aunt Millie for a shoulder to cry on. I couldn’t believe he did that and called
him a coward and a lot of other less complimentary things, too. I was that mad and too furious to
notice my aunt fidgeting and starting to fuss about my foul-mouthed temper tantrum.

Pleasing pic above/others enhancing this letter courtesy of/copyright:

 Featuring our favorite kind of old-fashioned, real raw action, She-scolds-strips-
spanks-She flicks of all naughty sorts plus popular hot-button-hitting storylines complete
with cute sets such as schoolroom, jail, & court, badtushy.com ranks high on our favorite
flick producer list & offers you instant enjoyment of their fetching fare on-line via
reasonable membership rates! Check it out if you haven’t already via link/banner above
or, for your convenience, by clicking on any of the photos featured here.

Aunt Millie doesn’t like cussing, and never sat still for long when I threw a temper tantrum. But
I was 27, in MY house, and I didn’t think that she’d do what she did! They called it an
"intervention", but it felt like a sneak attack to me and Jerry's claims a pack of lies. I called my
husband a liar and lot of other things too, and refused to watch my mouth or calm down until
Aunt Millie said me she'd turn me over her knee and spank me if I didn't!
SPANK ME? SPANK ME!! WHAT?! Jerry says I looked like I’D seen a ghost, and I probably
did. I sure felt that way and was shocked silent. My first thought was that Aunt Millie had to
joking or crazy. But she was deadly serious! She said I was bigger but still the same brat she'd
spanked the spoiled out of before, and rattled off examples from my past that I didn't want to
hear about or remember. Then, thanks to Jerry, she ran down a list of questions regarding my
behavior and forced me to look her in eye so I couldn't lie when I answered her.
I felt uneasy confirming Jerry's nasty claims and queasy confessing them to Aunt Millie. I
told her this was between Jerry and myself and it was none of her business! She just shook her
head and said she couldn't believe that I was talking to her that way! She told me she had half
a mind to wash my mouth out with soap! Then she said that my marital problems became her
business when my husband asked her to help him save his marriage to her one and only niece
because he didn't know what else to do!
Aunt Millie can be forceful and intimidating, and having that side of her directed at me again
made me flinch and feel like a naughty girl. Especially after her childish threats! But I didn't
think she'd go through with them and didn't like being treated like a kid. I was 27, married,
and still believed my so-called loving husband was more responsible for our troubles than me!
 I jumped up, stomped my foot, and spoke my mind. I told Jerry that he could go to hell and
fuck himself on the way. I shouted that I hated him and wanted a divorce before he left. I
turned to tell Aunt Millie off too, but she beat me to the punch. She snarled, "That's enough,
Janice!" Then she reached out and grabbed me tightly by the arm. I let out a yelp and tried to
pull away, but Aunt Millie wouldn't let go. She was strong as I remembered and smart as well.
Aunt Millie used my efforts to pull away and my husband against me. She let go of my arm
and, suddenly free, I lost my balance. I stumbled back on the heels I'd grudgingly put on to
celebrate my anniversary, and left myself open to my aunt and husband's second sneak attack
of the night. Aunt Millie followed me and wrapped an arm around my waist. Then she bent me
over, whacked my bottom as hard as she could, and called out to Jerry to get a chair from the
dining room for her sit on while she gave me the spanking I needed and deserved.
I jumped and hopped at Aunt Millie's unexpected assault on my ass, and my husband jumped at
her command. I snarled, spit and squirmed to get free before Jerry could get back and help my
aunt get me over her knees. But Aunt Millie held on, whacked me hard several more times, and
told me I was going to get spanked one way or another and fighting would only make it worse.
I realized I couldn't break free, and panicked when Jerry returned and set the straight-backed chair
down where she told him. I knew I couldn't overpower the both of them! But I tried and screamed for
help as loud as I could, too. I really couldn't believe what my aunt and husband were doing to me and
would have welcomed cops coming to my rescue. I felt like my life was in danger and sure I'd die of
shame if they succeeded in their so-called "intervention". God, I hate that word now!

Vastly under appreciated & displayed in more than our opinion alone, we had to
express our appreciation of the pantyhose this naughty gal is wearing &
badtushy.com’s generous use of the realistic, utilitarian undergarment in their flicks.
Few women wear garters & stockings except for special occasions!
Yeah, I got spanked and didn't die of shame. But I sure wanted someone to put me out of my
misery before Aunt Millie finished frying my fanny. I'd leave it at that if I could. That and the
results are all you really need to know. But Jerry insists that I “describe my feelings” after he
helped Aunt Millie get me as helpless as I always was when she put me over her lap.
The first thing I felt was that I and, especially, my bottom were bigger. My ass felt and
looked huge sticking up in the air! I couldn't bear to see it after Aunt Millie bared it— Oh, no
pun intended. I'm not in the mood right now. Remembering and describing having my skirt
flipped up and my panties peeled down to my knees by Aunt Millie in front of my husband is as
embarrassing as experiencing it. I've never been more ashamed in my life, Jerry! Especially
when you sat right across from Aunt Millie and me and started grinning like an idiot!!
The next thing I felt was I felt foolish pleading with Aunt Millie not to spank me, and
promising that I wouldn't act like a spoiled brat or back talk her ever again. But I couldn't help
it! I felt so frightened and humiliated hanging there helpless over Aunt Millie's lap, Jerry,
especially with YOU watching!!
My aunt's response that I was right where I should and would be until she spanked the
spoiled out of me as she patted my bare bottom cheeks made me feel worse in every way. Then
she started spanking me and all I felt was pain, Jerry! Stinging and burning pain so bad that it
shocked me at first and quickly sent me into a frenzy trying to get away from it as it hurt worse
and worse.
I kicked, clawed at carpet, squirmed, and screamed at the top of my lungs. But Aunt Millie
had me helpless over her lap and landed spank after spank on my blotchy red hot butt with her
maple hairbrush. And no one came to my rescue, including you, Jerry! You just sat there
grinning like a fool!! I saw you and really hated you right then. How could you love me and
help Aunt Millie do this to me?!?

Aunt Millie swatted every spot on my bare butt until my ass was one big screaming mass of
agony. I started sniffling from shame alone before she started, and began crying and begging
like a big baby about halfway through according to Jerry. Yeah, I lost track of time and only
have my husband and Aunt Millie's accounts of what happened to go by once I gave up and in to
the pain, shame and fear that my aunt would never stop spanking me.
I didn't feel anything else then but overwhelmed by the torture and misery you and Aunt
Millie put me through, Jerry. But you wouldn't know about that, and didn't show a sign of
sympathy when I looked at you and begged you to make Aunt Millie stop. You just sat there
gawking and getting hard while I suffered, and congratulated my aunt when she was finally
satisfied that she'd spanked the spoiled out of me!
I heard you through my sobs, Jerry, and I saw the stain on the carpet from the torrent of
tears I shed. I felt you fondle my fanny too when Aunt Millie invited you to feel how hot it was.
My bottom felt like it had been spanked raw, and your touch hurt me as much as the casual
conversation I heard you two have while I hung there hurting and hoping that Aunt Millie was
finished with me.
Aunt Millie released my arm but kept me and my big, bright-red bottom right where they
were while she lectured me, forced me to confess, and made me apologize to you! You said you
forgave me and your words of love made me feel better somehow, Jerry. But I couldn't stop
crying or cringing when Aunt Millie patted my poor, blazing bottom, and I felt as sorry for
myself as I ever have when she said she owed me for fighting and sassing her and started
slapping away at my ass again!
My bottom instantly burst back into an inferno and big wet tears and wails burst out of me a
second later. I thought the worst night of my life was over, and my suffering was through. But it
wasn’t and the sudden switch of gears from relief to fear made Aunt Millie’s fresh spanks feel like
they hurt twice as much as before, Jerry. That’s why I turned back into a baby and debased myself
blubbering NEVER when Aunt Millie demanded to know when I’d be too big for her to spank!
Aunt Millie liked what she saw and heard and finally stopped torturing me and let me go. I
jumped up and ran away with my red buns bouncing, locked myself in my bathroom, and cried
and cried. Aunt Millie’s “intervention” was the most merciless of all the spankings she ever
gave me, and the most humiliating by a long shot, too. I felt like hiding in the bathroom for the
rest or my life, Jerry, and thought about moving away and leaving you and Aunt Millie behind as
well. I didn’t think I could face either one of you again, and I didn’t want to after what you two
did to me. How could you?!?
 It’s a good thing that I didn’t know about your ulterior motives then, Jerry, or I might not have
believed that it was because you loved me and wanted to save our marriage after my bottom and
outrage cooled. But I didn’t know and you didn’t tell me until weeks later when we happy lovers
again and I admitted that somehow Aunt Millie’s spanking turned me on as much as you.
You couldn’t hide how hot seeing me get spanked got you, Jerry, or how excited you got when
your hopes and dreams were realized. You were inspired in bed after Aunt Millie kissed me
goodnight and left me in your hands that night, and you got so hot when I confessed my confusing
feelings that you took me and told me about your secret after we made love, didn’t you?
You said what I was feeling was natural and not to fight it, and told me that we’d both gotten
what we deserved. And I agreed, Jerry, but I learned my lesson and don’t want another, even
though you do. You talk about it all the time, and Aunt Millie’s let me know she’s ready
anytime. But I’m not ready yet! Maybe as a present on our tenth anniversary? We’ll see... Janice

Or, perhaps, sooner as I’m we all hope and I suspect from reading between the lines of your
hated “assignment”, Janice. As we imagine your thoughtful husband has informed you, 27 is late
to be bitten by the spanking bug, but you obviously were and now know that your Aunt Millie
agrees with the rest of us and has proven that some naughty niece’s like hers are never too old to
be spanked straight, whether they want it or not! Kudos to her and you two spank-happy
lovebirds, too! - Barb

For your convenience, the eye-popping pic above/most others in

our new interactive format are hyperlinks to applicable sites!
 Crying Over Spilled Perfume!
SISTERS! OF COURSE YOU LOVE THEM like, well, sisters. But it’s hard sometimes, especially
when they’re just old enough to think they’re the boss of you like my sister Alicia has since we
were forced to share a bedroom together in the three-bedroom house we and our two brothers
grew up in. My older sister, Alicia, was like that and still is. We’re both all grown up, married and
mothers now. But she still treats me like a kid when she’s feeling superior, and won’t let me forget
how she had to put up with me and pass on her wisdom about school, boys, make-up, clothes,
college, marriage, kids, and everything else in life she’s been through before me and thinks she’s
done better.
Alicia doesn’t come out and say so, but I know she feels that way because she still shoves
advice down my throat and treats me like a kid when I don’t swallow it. She subtly reminds me of
all the times I ignored her wisdom and paid a price in the past then, and pulls out her favorite
embarrassing recollection of the only real spanking she ever gave me to really put me in my place
if I stand up to her or turn a deaf ear like I did then.
It happened when Alicia started getting over protective about her things, especially this one
bottle of perfume this guy gave her. She always kept it on her vanity table and I was told
"hands off" or else! I didn't even get to smell it unless Alicia wore it. When I asked her what the
big deal was about this bottle of perfume, especially since the guy moved away months ago,
Alicia never really gave me a satisfying explanation. She would just complain to mom about me
touching her things and then mom would be on my case too! Alicia wanted to have a separate
bedroom, but the house was too small and it would be much too expensive to build one.
One night mom was out with her friends and Alicia had gone out for the evening on a date. Mom
planned on being home pretty late or she would stay over at her friend's house if she didn't feel like
driving. She left the phone number in case either of us needed her. It was understood that since she
may not return until morning the next day, Alicia was to be home by midnight and take care of things
until mom had returned. By taking care of things, it meant to be in charge of me until mom got home.
Having gotten bored with television, I ventured upstairs and went into my bedroom. Alicia's side was
always very neat, not like I kept my side. My sister had everything in place. All her clothes were
hanging up in "her" closet or in the drawers of her dresser. Then there was her vanity table. It had a
large mirror so that my sister could see her full figure if she moved far enough a way from it. And if
she was sitting on the vanity chair, with a flip of a switch, the mirror lit up so that she could put her
make-up on. I always admired my sister's vanity table. It was so feminine. There was dusting powder
in a fancy pink colored glass container. There were lots of perfume fragrances in different color glass
bottles.
Alicia had a matching hairbrush and comb set that belonged to our grandmother. She would
sit in front of the mirror and brush her hair, every night before she went to bed. The hairbrush
and comb were both made from oak and I remember mom spanking me with the hairbrush one
time when I got in real trouble for taking some money from her dresser without asking. Finally,
there was that special perfume bottle that the guy had given Alicia.
Since no one was around to yell at me for touching Alicia's stuff, I pulled out the vanity chair
and sat down. I turned on the lights around the vanity mirror and looked at myself. Alicia
wasn't there, so maybe I would borrow some of her make-up. I added a touch of blush to my
cheeks and a bit of lipstick to my lips. Then I picked up the hairbrush and started brushing my
hair. There was just one more thing to add, but before I did, I decided to put on one of Alicia's
dresses. She never let me try on any of her stuff and I knew I would look just as good as she
did. I opened the closet and went through her vast collection of dresses, stopping at one of my
favorites. I pulled it out and held it up to me. Standing back from the mirror, I knew at once it
would look great, especially if I added a pair of my sister's heels to the outfit.
I stripped of my clothes and just before I was ready to slip on the dress, I sat down at the
vanity table and reached for the special perfume bottle. It had two pieces, a matching top and
bottom. The top you simply pulled off and there was a little extension that you dabbed at your
neck, behind your ear and maybe some other places I could think of.
I sniffed the special perfume and the scent was indeed, heavenly. I dabbed some behind my ear
and a touch on the inside of my wrist. I didn't dare rub anymore on in case Alicia could smell it
on me when she got home. It suddenly occurred to me to see what time it was. I turned to look at
my sister's alarm clock and accidentally knocked over the special perfume bottle! What had I
done! The special perfume was pouring out all over the top of the vanity table. I had to stop it
before it was all over the place. I got up, knocking over the vanity chair and ran into the
bathroom for a towel to soak up the perfume. Desperately, I worked to save some of the perfume
and tried moving things away from the spreading spill before it reached them.
 Titled “Bubble Gum Cleopatra”, these sinsational sisterly spanking panels by Bernard Dibble appeared in Crack
Comics 52, January 1948, under a 5 page comic story devoted to the misadventures of college man, “Beezy” Bumble.
 Our bedroom wreaked of Alicia’s prized perfume. It just stunk so bad that I knew cleaning
everything up would not get rid of the smell. All I could do was my best, open all the windows and
throw the towels in the garbage. I ran downstairs and disposed of the smelly towels. Then running
upstairs again with hopes high that the fresh air had cleared the fumes, I walked right into Alicia!
She’d already been in our room by then and, to say the very least my sister was pissed off!
Before I could panic, Alicia was in my face demanding to know what I did! Alicia was so close to
me that I could see the veins bulging in her neck! I tried to tell her what happened, but all she
did was yell at me. Then just like that, Alicia sat down on her vanity chair and with one big
heave-ho, I was across her lap! She pulled down my panties, grabbed grandma's hairbrush and
started blasting away at my bare bottom!
Struggling and fighting, I attempted to release my sister's hold on me, but it was no use. As I
kept on kicking and screaming, Alicia kept landing that hairbrush over the fleshiest part of my bare
bottom and soon I felt my panties slide down my legs and onto the floor, away from all the action.
Just as quickly as my spanking started, it had ended and I was standing on my feet, rubbing
my blazing posterior and crying! Alicia said that when mom got home she was going to tell her
everything and that I would get another spanking even worse than the one she gave me!
I leaned over and picked up my panties and spotted my sister's dress on my bed. I quickly
turned and walked towards the door hoping Alicia wouldn't see her dress. I was halfway gone
when I felt a sharp tug on my arm and was pulled back inside the bedroom. Alicia wanted to know
just what I was doing with her dress and her shoes. I had forgotten all about her shoes. Those
were on the floor below her dress. Alicia scolded me for taking her clothes out of her closet
without permission. This started everything up again and she started scolding me for everything!
From now on, she yelled, she was going to put a padlock on her closet before she left!
Once again, my sister sat down, this time on her bed and threw me across her lap. She didn't
have to go to the trouble of lowering my panties because I never got the chance to put them back
on. And for what seemed like a good half hour or more, my sister spanked my entire bare bottom
with her hand! It felt as though her hand had been sitting on hot coals and I could almost imagine
the sound of sizzling as she spanked my bottom all over! By the time she finished, I was sure that
my bottom was on fire! I jumped around the room trying to put the flames out!
Alicia promptly told me that if I didn't want her to get her leather belt and add some crimson
stripes to my backside, I'd better get to my own side of our room! Not needing a second
invitation, I ran into the bathroom, shut the door and cried some more looking at my bottom in
the mirror and trying to come to grips with what just happened to me..
That was the last time I went into my sister's stuff, unless she gave me permission. When
mom got home, Alicia told her what happened and from the description of the spankings I got,
mom thought I had suffered enough. Though she did warn me that if I got into Alicia's stuff
without permission or borrowed anything without permission, she would make sure the
spanking Alicia gave me would be nothing compared to what she would give me!
My sister took great pleasure in my discomfort after the days following her conquest of me,
and I didn’t dare say boo back. I was intimidated, confused and couldn’t look at Alicia without
blushing for a week! Our bedroom was now the scene of my crime and shameful, and being
forced to share it with the smirking older sister who stripped and spanked me as bad as mom
ever did was torture. Especially with Alicia starting in on me!
Alicia’s memories and feelings were as clear as mine, but from her victorious view and her
comments were cutting. Alicia chuckled over what a big baby I was, how red my bottom got, how I
blubbered and begged her for mercy, and what I flashed while I was wantonly kicking and writhing
the throes of agony!
Those taunts, occasional swats, threats, and crowing about how I swore to obey her forever
were Alicia’s favorites then, since whenever she wanted to put me in my place, and the last time I
pushed her buttons and got her revved up. That was a few months ago when I needed a fix I guess
you could say, and dipped into my bag of reliable tricks. Alicia and I don’t have many
confrontations now that we’re both married, working moms with the same hum-drum lifestyles.
Alicia thinks she’s so wise and knows me so well! But she doesn’t have a clue that I baited her
into her last thrilling trip down memory lane, and many others before. She’s sure my blushes and
squirms are born of embarrassment, and probably wouldn’t understand or believe how turned on I
really am and how much I want to dive back over her lap and beg her to bare my bottom and make
my buns blush as bright as she did then!
I’ve fantasized about doing that a bazillion times, and gotten my bottom threatened, swatted
and playfully patted over Alicia’s lap several times over the years when I played my childishly
stubborn and bratty cards just right. But my big sister has never accepted any of my subtle and
slyly open invitations to bare and spank my bottom for real like she did that one wonderful time.
 BRAVO LADIES! ENCORES PLEEEEZ!!
Adorable bare buns, enticing expression, palm prints pointing up & toward the leering, Colorado State gym
shorts clad cutie, the photog, or one of the watching coeds(?) reflected in the mirror... Drop down PJ’s & this
purely punitive pose posted on collegehumor.com, & the pure cheekiness of these awesome amateur photos
posted on-line for all the world to see make them winning works of art among the amazing amount of similarly
spank-happy pics & poses celebrating the popularity of never too naughtiness at it’s fun, exciting & blushing
best in our opinion... And perfect compliments to this piece of correspondence as well, wouldn't you agree?
 I’ve always thought that Alicia would like to and would love it as much as me if she did. She
sure enjoys reminding me about our blushing past and remembers the highlights as clearly as
me! But I’ve never had the nerve to come out and talk to her about it, and unless I’m just
wrong, my guess is that she’s probably too upright and uptight to admit it, too.
I like to believe that we’ll both open up someday, and I won’t be disappointed! But, until, then,
thanks for letting me share my story! I’m looking forward to seeing it in WWS and have been enjoying
a new fantasy of “accidentally” e-mailing a copy to my big sister. Wouldn’t that be a hoot! – Jessica

Probably, you beautiful brat, and a HOLLER too when she gets her hands on you and your naughty
bottom and finally opens up on it as I too suspect she’d love to do, too. The “lightening bolt” that struck
and scarred you for life is a fickle and funny thing as all of us who’ve been hit in the ass by it know.
But it sure does sound like at least a spark of it struck Alicia too from the way you’ve described her
carrying on about it and playing it up as much as Alicia has all this time. Sure, sisters can be bossy,
catty and know which skeletons to pick out of the closet to make their sibling squirm. But, remembering
so well, being so eager to tell, and “Threatening? Swatting? Playfully patting your bottom over her
lap?” is over the top and telling me to suggest that Alicia’s “subtle and openly sly invitations” and yours
may have been crossing in the ethereal mail all these years and missed because neither of you has been
willing to take it a step further. Sadly, I’ve heard of similar situations and decades or lifetime’s of
mutual longing and spanking satisfaction lost due to the social and sexual stigmas surrounding our
supposedly “sinful” desires. That may not be so in your case, Jessica, and Alicia might not be willing to
confess even if it is. Inhibitions do run deep! But it could be true too, so I have to encourage you to kick
up your baiting games as I’m sure an imaginative and naughty lady with a bag of tricks and burning
desire like you can do or figure out a way of coming clean in a way you’re comfortable with. Of course,
you can “accidentally” send Alicia a copy of your letter as you’ve been fantasizing about and pull your
panties right down, figuratively at least. Personally, I think that’s a tad too drastic. You should keep it
between you two for now and don’t want to freak her out! But, please do something sooner rather than
too later and, whatever you do, please do let us know when you and your big sister make a blushing
new memory together as I choose to belief you will. And many thanks for sharing the first!! – Barb

Sinfully Sensational Sorority

Secrets PAST!
IT'S BEEN A PLEASURE TO FIND your old-
fashioned publications and read the recollections
of old-timers like me who were born and raised
back in the day when there were plenty of
taboos, but none yet against spanking and
paddling kids at home for as long as the parents
wanted and at school all the way up to high-
school graduation.
I grew up in a small, rural town and became
fascinated with spanking when I was in
grammar school and witnessed one of my
classmate friends, Judy Thomas, get her
bottom warmed in front of the class by our
teacher. She put Judy across her knee, raised
up her skirt, pulled down her panties, and
spanked her little bottom until it really was
bright-red and she was crying, kicking and
flailing the air with her little arms, hands and
fists as if she was trying to fly, swim or fight
off the Devil and the fires of hell.
I hadn’t actually seen anyone get spanked
before, or anything near as scary, naughty, and
exciting when the other kids teased Judy at
recess. Ironically, my mother was one of the
more progressive parents in town, and only
needed an odd swat, a fast flurry of slaps that
was over before you knew it and felt like you'd been branded, and the threat of baring our
bottoms and turning us over her knee with me and my siblings. We were good kids, and smart,
too. None of us ever pushed mom into carrying out her ultimate threat before I saw my best
and bravest girlfriend friend get spanked, and very few times after.
The only one I was home to hear was mom showing my younger sister how well she could
spank when she wanted to, and I felt all the things I had when I watched my best friend get hers
and more with the sibling bond we shared. I'd realized I was different from the other kids in that
regard early on, and felt as guilty and dirty about it and wanting to be spanked myself as the taboo
against such things said I should. They teased Judy and any other kid who got spanked until the
next one came along. But I didn't forget any of them, and watched, teased and wished I could be
where they had been many times over.
Judy didn't share my enthusiasm and didn't get spanked in front of any of our classes again. But
she did in my imagination sometimes, and in my fondest, naughtiest memories many times more as
floated up and back to hover, move around and study all the details of the bittersweet lesson I'd
witnessed Judy learned over our teachers lap, after as she hopped around howling and holding her
little bottom, and after that in the halls, bathrooms and out on the playground with the other kids!
I wanted to be at the center of all that spanking attention, and my naughty little bottom burned
with curiosity to know if being spanked felt like the kids who endured one said. They spoke of
spankings with loathing and fear, but I was sure I would love mine as much as I privately
daydreamed and fantasized almost daily. But I wasn't that bad or bold, and didn't get spanked
before I felt I'd outgrown the possibility when I turned 16.
My family and friends threw a sweet, "Sweet 16", for me and, although fantasies of being spanked
by some of older women attendees flitted through my head, all of the attention on my age, nicely
budding womanhood, and future in college and after made me realize that I wasn't a girl in anyone's
eyes, including mine. I still had my memories and fantasies to enjoy, but I packed them away with
others from my youth that seemed as far-fetched.
I felt I had a better chance to meet and marry my rich, handsome, romantic Prince Charming than
to be spanked as I prepared to follow my older brothers off to the state university 200 miles from
home. They and others had told me about college life, but none of their stories mentioned much
about sororities, so I never imagined there might actually be houses full of young women who
passionately believed in their sisterhood and practiced paddling and other forms of girlish domestic
discipline to maintain their high standards until I arrived on campus.
Being a small town girl, I was a little overwhelmed by the size of the place and homesick at first.
I also didn't like the sorority girls I met at all. They were snooty and cliquish, and I didn't want to
be a sister at all until the juicier gossip about the goings-on behind the closed doors of sorority
houses reached my ears. I knew about the tradition of paddling pledges, but rumor had it that
sisters were never free from the fear of the paddle or the kind of old-fashioned, over the knee
spankings I secretly favored and felt lost to me.
The latter rumor caught my attention and got my juices flowing once I overcame the shock of it.
Could it be that all of the snooty, cliquish, and grudgingly pretty, well-dressed and popular girls I'd
encountered and disliked were spanking the bottoms of others or being spanked like little girls?! I
found it hard to believe, and had to find out. I befriended a sorority girl who was nice and sweet
when she wasn't with her stuck-up sisters and told her that I was thinking of applying.
She encouraged me to do so, and offered to take me "home", show me around, and sponsor me as all new
pledges needed to be. She also confirmed the spanking rumors after I accepted her invitations and found out
the girls I'd thought snooty were mostly small town girls like me with attitude fostered in the band of
unstoppable sisters against the man's world that we lived in atmosphere behind the doors of their sorority
house and all the others like it spread across the country.
All of the houses followed the same high sorority standards and employed paddling for pledges
and infractions against codes of conduct. Each assigned a big sister to watch over and guide little
ones through the scholastic and social mazes until the elder graduated to conquer the outside world
and the younger was entrusted with molding the next generation of sisters. And each had a
"mother" to maintain order and oversee everything the way a normal homemaker would. But, as I
was told after I was accepted into the circle of my house full of new sisters and would soon find out
for my blushing self, few other chapters of our sorority were as old-fashioned and spank-happy as
our home turned out to be!
It wasn't like one of those fantasies where there were cute coeds getting their bare bottoms
spanked in every room for real or foreplay every day. But, for the first few months, I felt like
Alice in Wonderland floating on the avalanche of innuendos, threats, pats, swats and over the
knee spankings I encountered and enjoyed myself within my first month living at our house.
 We sisters prided ourselves on being one big family over the more military or society structured
style others preferred, and spanking was a better fit than paddling. It also seemed to forge the kind
of intimate familial bridge and bond between sisters that all of the girls favored, felt, and,
sometimes, feared at the hands of our big sisters and house mother. She was a fair but firm force
of sisterly stability who employed about a decade's worth of logic, wisdom, and experience running
a sorority house, sorting out problems between coeds, and punishing them like little girls when they
deserved it.

Could be a sorority house & mother, don’t you think? We did.

CP was still in the by-laws for our house mother to use as it had been since the 1920's when our
chapter was founded in a small, four bedroom house that had since been rebuilt over and expanded
to include two dormitory style wings. My sisters reminded me a lot of the excited kids I enjoyed
sharing spanking encounters with as a girl when one of was got caught breaking curfew or called to
the house mother's office behind the kitchen. And worse when a freshly spanked sister was finally
sent to her room and forced to lift her skirt, pull up her panties, and play show and tell to the
teasing comments and embarrassing questions of her eager audience.
It was terribly embarrassing for the girl, and terribly exciting to me and my sisters. I heard
warnings and whacks as we made our way back to our rooms, and the sounds of some hanky-spanky
echoing through the halls later similar to the bun warming my big sister decided to give me.
Annette was from a small town down the road from mine, and cut from the same cloth in almost
every way. The only glaring differences between her and I were that she had been spanked by her
mother growing up, and had developed a desire to dominate instead of submit like me.
Annette gave me a pleasant patting that night, and my first spanking about a month after I moved
into her room at the sorority house. She scolded me for forgetting to tidy up my side of the room
to her standards again, and told me that I obviously needed a lesson to help me remember. I knew
but couldn't believe what she was referring to, and almost fainted with fear and desire as she took
my hand, led me to my bed, and turned me over her knee.
I'll never forget how silly and sexy I felt to finally find myself in that childish position of
punishment, or how shamefully sensational it felt when Annette flipped my skirt up and rubbed my
bottom with her hand. I'd never felt the touch of a woman that way before, and ate up the arousing
pleasure of it and anticipation of what was yet come as I waited, wondered and wished that Annette
would give me the spanking I'd wanted for so long.
Annette knew I'd never been spanked, but not how much I wanted to be yet. I didn't confide that
secret when we talked about our pasts, and she didn't confide all of hers, either. But her desire to
satisfy herself and seduce me with a more playful than punitive roller coaster ride of a first
spanking perfectly suited my inexperienced cravings, and had me gasping, panting, pleading and
oozing with appreciation before my big sister finished warming my naughty bottom.
My first spanking hurt so good that I didn't want it stop, and couldn't let it when Annette's hand
came to rest cupping my bottom and she asked if I'd learned my lesson? She expected me to say yes
as most mature, 18 year-old women would after what she'd done to me and could still do with me
over her lap. And I should have said yes to shield my secret longer. But I just couldn't! I wanted
more and had to have it! My inner brat was finally free and flying high, so I spat out a loud and
defiant, "NO!". Then, under the spontaneous spell that gripped me, I squirmed around so Annette
could see my face and stuck my tongue out at her like a naughty kid!
I'll never forget the fantastically funny look on my big sister's face or the feelings that flew
through me as I watched Annette's eyes widen with wonder, twinkle with merriment, flash with
mischief, and flame with desire as they bore into mine. I knew then that my big sorority sister was
enjoying herself as much as me, and I'd be getting all the spankings I wanted so greedily. And
Annette knew my naughty secret then too and couldn't resist giving in to her deepest, darkest
desires any more than me.
Annette huffed and puffed, "OH!? Is that so!!" Then after I sneered, "Yeah!", and stuck my tongue
out at her again, she smirked and said that I obviously needed my bottom bared and spanked with
the back of the ivory hairbrush she used and kept on her side of our room. I blushed at the mention
of stripping down my panties, but I didn't protest. I wanted my bottom bared as it always was in my
fantasies and Judy's had been. And, ignorance being blissful until the burning of a hairbrush spank
bites into a bare, soft bum, I didn't quake with fear or hesitate to jump up, get the brush, and dive
back over Annette's lap when she ordered me to.
Annette carefully folded my skirt up my back and rubbed my cotton clad bottom for a minute
before she began to ever so slowly peel my panties down. She knew what I was feeling as the
privatest parts of me they protected were slowly exposed, and she enjoyed prolonging the titillating
moments as much as me. Nudity was as taboo as spanking a freshman coed, and the combination of
the two for the first time was too thrilling for me to fathom at the time or ever forget.
I felt so nicely naughty that I had to peek over my shoulder and preen at the look of awe and
amazement on Annette's face as she bared, studied and gently stroked my warm, pink bottom. Her
touch felt twice as good as before, and where her fingers trailed over my exposed skin tingled in
their wake and made me tremble as they wandered closer to and then over the hidden places
between my buns and thighs.
Annette praised my posterior and promised to punish it properly for being so naughty as she
prepared me for the lesson she wanted to teach me. She knew the first would make me feel better,
and wanted the latter to mix in as much fear as I could feel without knowing that first time. My big
sister was all about showing me what pain-enhanced pleasure felt like that first time, and proving
that she and her ivory hairbrush could provide the kind of girlishly frantic punishment I'd thought
I'd outgrown, too.
Annette slapped my bottom back to hot pink and teased me for squirming, squealing and being so
shameless. Then she picked up her brush, warned me that it would hurt much more then and every
time she chose to use it on me, and began to apply the hard, ivory back of it to my virginal bottom in
furiously fiery flurries and startling single strokes that flattened my fanny and stung like fury.
I could feel my bottom cheeks bouncing as much as burning and begged Annette to stop spanking
me as girlishly as I'd heard Judy plead with the teacher before she burst into tears. But I didn't feel
like crying, and wouldn't have let myself if Annette was really trying to punish me. I wasn't ready to
let my guard down that far yet, and needed to be taught and tenderized by my sister for a few
months more before I would, could and did bawl, beg and dance around after as shamelessly as Judy
when my big sister finally allowed me to hop off her lap!
Annette had caught me flirting with another sister's beau, dragged me back to the sorority house,
and mercilessly hair-brushed my bare bottom as soon as she got me upstairs alone. The boy
approached me, but I knew I was being naughty and flirting with danger by letting him flatter me
instead of excusing myself as I should have. The rules against trespassing on another sister's
romantic property were strict due to the corrosive power jealously has in a house full of young
women seeking suitable college men. But I didn't think that basking in his charm and admiration
for a little while would do any harm until Annette stepped in and showed me how wrong I was.
It was April and I considered my once virginal bottom fairly promiscuous due to Annette's
frequent lessons. But I hadn't really been punished yet, and wasn't as anxious to be as I once had
been. Especially that night! Annette was furious and fuming about what I’d done and what she was
going to do about it! She would not accept my apologies and excuses. And she would not stop
spanking my bare bottom with her ivory hairbrush when I begged, pleaded and promised to be good.
 We approve too, Ed! And we wish more of the cute she-spanks-she quickies you & Humorama
came up with to thrill the secretly spank-smitten masses back in 1948 survived like these examples
from "Eyeful" magazine survived for us to admire & showcase in their place as examples of the
HOT history of our very favorite kind of old-fashioned, OTK sorority spanking!
 Annette told me that I was getting what I deserved while she set my seat on fire, and promised me
that I wasn’t getting off of her lap until my fantasy of taking Judy’s place and feeling everything she had
was fulfilled. But I didn’t want to cry, kick, beg and scream in agony like my best childhood friend had
over our teachers lap, and found nothing fun or arousing about it as I chirped, yelped and foolishly
tried to fight the pounding, building urge to burst into tears and behave like a naughty little girl!
My pride withered as my big sister spanked, scolded and swore she wasn’t going to stop until I gave
her what she demanded, and it broke as quickly as the dam holding back my utter anguish. Then tears
of guilt, contrition and fear burst from me and I flailed and flopped about trying to escape Annette's lap
as strenuously as my little friend had years before. But my big sister was as able to hold me there as
the teacher who spanked Judy and just as ruthless in regards to the amount of tears, sobs and wordless
wails of agony she demanded before she finally stopped and let me go.
I didn't care about being shameless, childish or anything but trying to soothe my battered
bottom as I hopped and danced around our room. I didn't even worry about any of my sisters
hovering outside our door in the hall listening to me hoop and howl. Annette had spanked me
into a corner of hell where nothing mattered but salvation from the physical and emotional
agony I was in. I'd always wanted to feel what Judy and the other kids had when they were
punished, and found their pain and suffering arousing from my safe distance. But I knew I
never wanted to take their places or feel what I did again before my senses returned and I
began to blubber out apologies, promises and platitudes to persuade Annette and protect my
bottom from any more spanking.
My big sister set her ivory instrument of torture down on the bed and rose to take me in her
arms and tell me that my punishment was over. I felt a relief flood through me that I'd never
felt before, and a strange sense of gratitude as well. I didn't know where it came from or why I
wasn't angry with Annette for abusing me as she had. But I realized later that I felt the
spanking she gave me was deserved and, like a child with a parent, that she had hurt me
because she cared and wanted the best for me.
Annette cooed and comforted me until my tears slowed to a trickle. Then she tenderly cleaned
me up, took off my clothes, and told me to lie face down on the bed so she could apply some
soothing cold cream. I dutifully obeyed, and without feeling the self-consciousness I usually and
still felt when my roommate watched me change or naked after a shower. I didn't stop to think
about it as I climbed onto my bed and snuggled into a comfortable position, but I realized that
Annette must have spanked my inhibitions away.
I felt grateful for the reprieve as Annette settled on the bed next to me, and gloried in the
freedom to really feel and enjoy the forbidden fruits my big sister treated me to as she tended to
my bottom and tempted me with her fingers and words. Annette told me all the things a loving
sibling would about being sorry she had to spank me so hard, how it was for my own good, and how
ready she was to do it again. And, all the while, her slippery palms slid around my bottom and
thighs and her long fingers slipped into places that no one but me had ever touched before and did
things that made me feel pleasures I'd never known or allowed myself to imagine before.
I'm not normally attracted to women and the taboo against lesbian loving was strong enough to stop
me from dwelling on it when the thought had crossed my mind as it had since my happy to spank big
sister adopted me. But, that night, in those magical moments after my first true submission, the world
and all my inhibitions drifted away, and it was just Annette, me and the most marvelously naughty and
sinfully sensational pleasures two passionate young women could ever desire!
Annette and I were both saving our virginities for our husband's as good girls were supposed to
do, and had limited, less than satisfying sexual encounters with men who didn't know how to please
a woman or care. But we knew and cared, and with Annette's thrilling tutelage, I quickly learned
how great it felt to be touched, teased and taken with a penetrating finger in a place that protected
my virginity and provided more than a glimpse at the glories of being mounted by a good stud!
I came several times while Annette pleasured me, and more strongly each time as the last of
those inhibitions floated away to join the others and leave me free to pleasure my wonderful big
sister as well as she'd pleased me. I didn't think twice about returning Annette's favors, and really
enjoyed holding her satisfaction in my hands and making her beg for it when I had her on the brink.
I felt like she deserved a little payback and liked the power switch, too.
Annette enjoyed and praised my amorous attentions as she pulled me down and snuggled me in
her arms. Then, in the best and sexiest way I've ever felt, she kissed me and told me that we were
now and would forever be bound above the close, intimate and bizarre spanking sorority sisterhood
we had shared just hours before. I felt the same and agreed with kisses of my own. Then, I just had
to stick my tongue out at Annette and tell her that she was mean for spanking me so hard and
deserved to have her bottom warmed, too!
I don't know why I did and said that, but it seemed like and was the right thing to do. Annette
giggled, agreed, and rolled onto her taut tummy. Then she let me spank her full fanny until it was
hot pink, and insisted I soothe it and slip my finger between her cheeks and take her after as she'd
taken me. Annette tasted the pleasures I had and several times, too. And I tasted from her side of
the cup then, and later when she thanked and rewarded me.
Annette said she wanted to doze off in each others arms as much as me, but reminded me that
we dare not as she rose from bed. We and all of our other sisters suspected that more than hanky-
spanky was happening behind the closed doors of some of our less subdued in the throes of passion
kin. And no one minded enough to make a stink about it. But, flaunting it inside or outside of the
sorority house was another matter which Annette and I didn't want any part of when got dressed,
walked out of our room, and went to the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.
Most of our sisters were out of the house during the worst of my wailing, but not all and the one
who had stayed in that night due to a cold spread the news of my punishment to the gossip
grapevine where such scandalous stuff quickly spread. So, I got to feel what the kids in my past and
the sisters in my present who got teased after a spanking felt like for the first time, too. Once
again, it was worse and better than I imagined it could be, and just as incredible and unforgettable
as my first real punishment spanking.
It wasn't the last I got from Annette before she graduated, or the only punishments I was forced
to suffer through during my four year residency at the sorority house. I was more good than bad,
but I wasn't an angel or able to keep from breaking curfew sometimes and ending up over our house
mother's dreaded lap. That woman had a hand on her that hurt as much Annette's ivory hairbrush,
and was as merciless about teaching tearful lessons you weren't supposed to soon forget, too.
I enjoyed being spanked and the forbidden forgiveness that Annette and I shared on those
"special" occasions when she had to spank me and my inhibitions into submission. But I didn't
enjoy the suffering of a punishment spanking, or dare to risk many from Annette or any from our
house mother. The only upside to getting spanked by her was limited to the teasing, smirks, and
show and tell performance my peers insisted on. And, while that was fun and sexy, it wasn't worth
the agony and embarrassment of being stripped and spanked by a woman old and maternal enough
to be your mother!
That dynamic didn't appeal to me at all, and with my promotion to big sister after Annette was
gone, I was content to spank and captivated by the effect it had on the little sister the sorority
picked for me to mentor and mold. Julie was very much like I had been when I stepped on campus,
only without any naughty desire to resume having her naughty little bottom spanked as it had been
by her mother until she was 16.
Julie was relieved to put the painful, shameful, childish punishments she considered all spankings
to be behind her, and reverted to a big, beautiful baby the two times I was called upon to correct her
with the back of my wooden hairbrush. But, as Annette had done for me, I taught her to enjoy playful
spankings and trained her to on the secret bond of our sisterhood to the next generation
Julie proudly carried on our sisterly tradition, but, sadly, taboos and progress caught up with my
blushingly beloved sorority house and the intimate bonds of sisterhood forged by CP was restricted to
the more acceptable paddles every sister had. I can only imagine that those impersonal planks of
wood kept the bottom bonding alive then and still.
It’s warmed more than my heart to see the sorority paddling photos you’ve featured in WWS and
know that some hanky-spanky is still going on between sisters. But I know that bending over for a
paddling never could or will ever measure up to everlasting bond being spanked over the warm thighs
of a big sister forged between me, Annette and all of the other spank-happy sorority sisters of ours
and other generations past.
I hope my little history lesson has been entertaining and informative, and look forward to learning
anything about the hanky-spanky going on in other sorority houses around the country past and
present. I’m in the twilight years of my life now and my days living in the spank-happiest house a girl
like me could wish for are far behind, but I still cherish those fantastic four years and always will. –
Delta forever

You should cherish them, dear Delta, and be as proud as you seem to be of your exceptionally
enlightened and old-fashioned sorority house. It might not have been the last to allow house mothers to
spank and sisters to bond as beautifully as you and yours did for all we know, but I think it’s safe to
assume that it was one of few and a stroke of luck for you to stumble across right there at your state
university. Thanks for telling us about it and please do feel free to elaborate on any sorority spanking
experiences you hold dear. I’m sure there are some with so much hanky-spanky going on then, since, and
still on modern college campuses as the following new paddling AND OTK pics posted on-line by spank-
happy sisters and coeds seem to show. And, for the first time, in FULL BLUSHING COLOR. Enjoy and
thanks again! – Barb
 Sorority Paddling Pics Present!
Cute amateur CP shots & poses
found proudly posted in the public
domain for all the web wide world
to see & savor... And, naturally, for
us spankophiles to speculate about
in all sorts of sinfully sensational
ways! Hooray for cheeky coeds &
cell phone cameras to catch them
being naughty!

Obviously, every sister in this sorority still has her own personal paddle,
but it’s hard to see which ones have best been oiled & polished on their
posteriors before this presumed, pledge grad pic was snapped &/or after
before the ceremony was through?

Girls will be girls &, obviously, naughty ones when there’s a paddle or oar handy for a hot swat shot!
 Ask & you just might get it, don’t & probably won’t... This cute & curvy coed best get ready for lift off when what
Our kind of bold, smart & beamingly spank-happy gal! looks Mama Nature whacks her with that plank!

Doesn’t particularly look like a sorority paddle, but who are

we to quibble or care with such a cute come hither pose &
Pure paddle pride! gloriously gleeful seeming spanker?

If that’s a sorority paddle, it’s a damned serious one with No paddle here, just a towel for possible snapping,
ALL those holes drilled in it to increase the bite of a whack appropriate pose & awesome shock & awww Yesss
as they do so well... Yikes! expressions on these locker room cuties!

And that’s HARDLY all! More cheeky coed/amateur pics follow!!

 Shades of Sorority Red!
A LOT OF FOLKS FIRMLY BELIEVE that being a member of a college sorority involves getting
paddled on a regular basis. Well, despite how often college officials try to deny that little fact,
they’re pretty much right. Sororities see themselves as training young women to be leaders in
their communities, and the frequent application of a stout paddle to a bare bottom seems to
help that process along, a lot! But it doesn’t stop there. Sororities have national offices too,
and I recently learned that the young women who work for these organizations are just as likely
to have their curvy rear ends well warmed as are their collegiate sisters. And believe me, now I
know from personal experience!
My name is Jennifer. I just turned 30, and I work (along with a bunch of other girls) for the
national office of Omega Tau Kappa, or OTK (name changed to protect the real sorority). Most
of them are in their early twenties, but our boss, Melinda, is a woman about my age, and she’s
stacked like the proverbial brick outhouse. Well, so am I. In fact, a few times we have been
mistaken for sisters. But the resemblance ends there. I’ve always had kind of quiet disposition.
Melinda, on the other hand, is both bossy and strict. In fact, although I know it sounds like
something out of a 50's romance magazine, she spanks any girl in the office who doesn’t get
her work done correctly or on time.
That’s right, she spanks them! Panties down and everything, and with a big hard sorority
paddle too. Now I know that sounds almost unbelievable, in this day of lawsuits and all, but
signing an agreement to take a spanking whenever Melinda decides to dish one out is a primary
requirement for getting a job at OTK. And the pay and benefits are great, so what’s a little
sting in the fanny now and then measured against that?
After hearing the gossip around the office, I decided that I would never give Melinda cause to
spank me. According to the grapevine, she spanked hard, and on the bare. She usually handed
out punishment just after quitting time. By then most everyone had left. Hurriedly, I might
add. I guess they thought that anyone who stuck around too long just might be next in line for
Melinda’s attentions, but I never worried too much. My work was excellent, so I was pretty sure
that my tender rear end was safe.
But because I thought I was safe, and because I was insatiably curious, I did stay a little late
lots of nights, just to see the other girls get their bottoms warmed. Actually, I didn’t get to see
the spankings themselves. Melinda always punished in her office and closed the door before
she laid into somebody’s backside. However, I did get to hear the main event. First there would
be the sound of Melinda’s voice explaining just what the problem was. Then came the high-
pitched protests as the culprit tried to talk her way out of a fanny warming (for all the good
that ever did!) Next there was a lot of smacking, a series of rapidly escalating warbling wails, and
finally some pretty loud crying. Best of all was the aftermath. Melinda’s office door would open
and whatever young miss got blistered that night would walk out, stiff legged, face still tear-
stained, and hands firmly clasped to her naughty bottom. Sometimes skirts were back in place,
but more often they were left pulled up to permit easier access for rubbing purposes. And for the
poor unfortunates who came to work wearing a foundation garment, often a very red fanny was
left entirely bare for that long shameful walk to the cooling waters of the ladies room.
Now in college I was pretty much a goody two shoes. Aside from when I was pledging OTK I
hardly ever got paddled. In fact, my grades and my behavior were so exemplary that by the
time I graduated, getting my bottom smacked was only a distant memory. And seeing the after
effects of spankings on my co-workers at the office on an almost daily basis, I was pretty sure I
wanted to keep it that way. Yet there was something very exciting about the whole idea. When
those crying girls walked by my desk a little erotic thrill ran through me, and later on when I
got home, I developed the habit of putting my favorite vibrator to good use, just to take the
edge off, you might say.
And there was also something else that also began to change my mind about being spanked.
Once after I had watched a sobbing miscreant make her way through the office, I happened to
look back over at Melinda’s office. She was standing in her doorway, looking sternly at me, and
tapping that awful paddle on her perfectly shaped thigh, just as if she was considering ordering
me into her office for a long overdue chastisement. I got the heck out of the office in a hurry
then, I can tell you! But that night I almost wore out the batteries in my vibrator, and I
dreamed about my strict boss spanking my oh-so-tender fanny just like she did to the other
girls at work.
In fact, over the next few months, the prospect of getting spanked by Melinda began to look
more and more exciting. And after I started thinking that, a few weeks later I finally worked up
my nerve to take the plunge. Now I have to say that up to a certain point, I orchestrated the
whole thing. Still a goody two shoes, I couldn’t turn in bad work if I tried, but I certainly could
lie about it. I had a big quarterly expense report due one Friday morning. When Melinda asked
for it, I told her that I had made a lot of errors, and I needed more time to correct it. At first,
she didn’t seem to believe me, but I stuck to my guns. She sighed, told me that I had until the
end of the day to make it right, but since I’d thrown the whole office schedule out of kilter, at
quitting time I was going to receive my first ever spanking from her. Across her knee and on
my bare bottom! She smiled when she said that, so I figured that she was looking forward to
the event. And truth be told, even though my knees were shaking, so was I!

Fetching photos enhancing this letter copyright/courtesy of:

One of FIVE fantastic, mostly She-scolds-strips-spanks-She sites created by & showcasing the
thrilling talents of one of the web’s brightest & most industrious stars & video producers, Claire
Fonda, spankingsororitygirls.com features a fabulous array of sorority-oriented spanking flicks
available for your instant enjoyment on-line via membership to any of Claire’s sites (links to all
available on each) or all five with a Fonda Pass. Ms. Fonda also has a great blog featuring tales &
pics from her many personal exploits & adventures in & outside of our community. Click here to
check out Claire’s blog & we think you’ll be as impressed with this lovely lady as much as we!

The rest of the day was kind of a blur. I made some entirely unnecessary changes to my report
just to look busy, but my mind was really almost entirely on my spanking to come. Would she use
her paddle? After all, it was only the first time I had earned a spanking. Surely she would take that
into account!? Would she make me take my own panties down or pull them down herself? What
would she say? Would she scold me? How hard would she spank? Would I cry? I handed in my
report in the late afternoon. Whatever was going to happen to me, I was about to find out.
 One lucky thing was that I had brought a fresh pair of panties for the event. The ones I had
put on in the morning were so sopping wet by late afternoon as I thought about my spanking to
come that I couldn’t possibly have worn them to get my tail warmed. And so, just before
quitting time, I made my way to the ladies room and changed. Now never having been spanked
by Melinda, I wasn’t at all sure what to wear for the event. So I had picked out a nice pair of
pink nylon, demure panties, with a little frilly material at the edges. I also didn’t wear
stockings. I hate pantyhose, and I thought that for a first spanking, a garter belt would be a
little too much of a come-on, just supposing that Melinda might happen to swing that way.
Then I glanced at my watch. Quitting time, right on the dot. I hurried back into the office. It
wouldn’t do to keep Melinda waiting at a time like this.
By now, I was so nervous that my heart was racing a mile a minute. The main office was
empty, and I was sure glad about that. I guess nobody had gotten the word that I was going to
be spanked, or I am sure a crowd would have gathered to listen in. I was popular with the other
girls, but the chance to see the only unspanked member of the staff get her comeuppance would
probably have drawn quite an audience.
I walked over to Melinda’s office. It seemed like it was about half a mile away. I knocked
softly on her door, and her firm alto voice told me to come in. She was sitting at her desk, with
my report in front of her. She also had a second copy and she was comparing them. Melinda
held up one report and told me that it was what I had just given her. Then she held up the
other. She said that she had downloaded it from last night’s computer backup. Melinda looked
me sternly in the eye and said they were pretty much the same. Then she gave me a wicked
little smile and said that my deception seemed to indicate that I wanted to try out being
spanked, and that she would do her very best to satisfy my curiosity. Then Melinda looked
stern again. She said she didn’t like being tricked, so that the spanking I was about to get was
going to be a very memorable one indeed. By now I was shaking in my boots. Well, they were
really high heels, but you get the idea!
I was ready to pull up my skirt and bend over for the paddle, just as we did in college, but
Melinda wasn’t having any of it. First she told me to take off my skirt, and then my panties, so
that I was completely bare from the waist down. I blushed like a bouquet of roses at that, but
we were only just getting started.
Getting a spanking is an embarrassing situation at best. Bare is worse. But at least just
bending over leaves you with some feeling of dignity. Melinda picked up her big sorority
paddle, sat down on the big leather couch in her office, and told me to come over and climb
across her lap, just as if I was a twelve year old. I did what she said, but the roses in my cheeks
got at least two shades redder as I settled into position.

For your convenience, the eye-popping pic above/most others in

our new interactive format are hyperlinks to applicable sites!
 Actually, being across her thighs was pretty comfortable, but by now I was so turned on that
I knew I was leaving a big damp spot on her skirt. Melinda noticed too, and told me how glad
she was to learn that I approved of her discipline. I thought I would die of shame!
And worse yet, there was a great big mirror just across from the sofa. All I had to do was
turn my head to see my big white fanny humped up across her knees and Melinda’s wide grin as
she got ready to spank me.
Melinda didn’t start off with the paddle. Instead she just smacked me briskly all over my
bottom with just her hand. At first it hardly hurt at all, but then the sting started to increase,
especially as her palm visited the same spots, from the top of my fanny crack to halfway down
my thighs, again and again. Also, some women have such soft hands that can hardly spank at
all. Well it wasn’t that way with Melinda. After all the experience she had smacking the
bottoms of the girls in the office, her palms were like leather paddles, and they weren’t any too
little either.
 Although I was completely mortified at the sight, I couldn’t help but look over into that
mirror. What I saw at one end were my after cheeks with bright pink handprints all over them,
shading into a uniform hot pink glow where she had spanked the most often. At the other end,
to my chagrin, I saw my own face, scrunched up into what seemed to be a permanent “OW!” as
that spanking went on and on. Finally I started to cry, just a little, and Melinda picked up her
paddle and said that meant it was time to move on to the main event.
Now I don’t know how many of you have ever been smacked with a sorority paddle. They are
big, and heavy, and usually polished until they are glassy smooth. In inexperienced hands, they
only hurt for a little while, because if you hit too hard, the bottom goes numb, and although
you can easily cause serious bruising, the recipient really doesn’t feel the later smacks too
keenly. Not so, however, if you know what you are doing. Fast, medium hard smacks, make the
bottom dance with a life of its own, and sting like the fires of hell! And Melinda was very good
at what she was doing!
Once she got going I couldn’t help looking back over into that mirror. No matter how
embarrassing it was, I just had to see. And I presented quite a sight. Hair whipping around as I
tossed my head at every smack, tears streaming down my face, fanny cheeks churning, and legs
frantically flailing in a hopeless race to nowhere. Needless to say, I was also howling at the top
of my lungs as my rear end rapidly changed from hot pink to bright scarlet!
Since I hadn’t had a spanking in years, I was really out of practice as to how to take one.
Also (although maybe every well administered spanking feels this way), I thought that I
absolutely couldn’t take even one more smack, and I proceeded to tell Melinda that in no
uncertain terms. She just snorted and kept paddling away.

Finally I really couldn’t take it anymore and tried to crawl off of her lap. All I succeeded in
doing was straddling her left thigh with my head toward the back of the sofa so that I showed
off everything I had and, by spreading my legs, even gave her a wonderful new target of that
very tender flesh on the inside curves of my buttocks. Oh God, it was awful!
I could still kind of look back over my shoulder into that mirror, and I was just horrified by
the sight! There I was showing off all my charms, the lower part of my fanny where the cheeks
meet the thighs was a deep brick red, at the other end my face was red as a fire engine, and my
voice sounded just like one too as I simply shrieked from the pain! I was one very sorry
secretary!
After what seemed to be an eternity, Melinda stopped spanking me. I probably only got fifty
or so smacks with that paddle, but at the time it seemed like hundreds. Then Melinda put down
the paddle and pushed me off onto the floor. I just laid there, clutching my burning bottom
and bawling.
 Melinda reached over to an end table and got me a wad of tissues. After I blew my nose and
calmed down a bit, I figured it was time to apologize and get my naughty fanny the heck out of
there and down to the cooling waters of the ladies lounge. But Melinda had other ideas. She
stood up, pulled her skirt up to her waist, and stepped out of her own panties, which I noticed
had a pretty big damp spot in their own right. Then she sat back down on the leather sofa and
spread her legs wide apart. With another one of those wicked little smiles, she asked me if I
would care to put our relationship on a bit more of a personal basis, or if I would rather go
back over her lap for an encore session with the paddle.
Well, that wasn’t a tough choice at all. In less time than it takes to tell about it, my tongue
was just where it would do the most good, and Melinda was gasping her way through an orgasm
that almost shook the couch apart. And then it was my turn.
Melinda flopped me down on my back on the sofa (right on my sore fanny, I might add)
buried her face in my pussy, and went to work. I went off like a rocket on the 4th of July at
least a half a dozen times before she was through!
It was the start of a beautiful relationship. Although we kept it all business around the
office (and I never tried to get spanked there again!) I moved in with Melinda about a month
later and we have been together ever since. Now I suppose that a lot of folks out there have
read those books “50 Shades of Gray.” Well, my story could easily be called 50 shades of red.
There is hardly a day that goes by when my alabaster fanny isn’t at least a bright pink by
bedtime, and often I have deep red splotches all over my ass from Melinda’s hairbrush or our
big bath brush. Sometimes I sport red welts from one of our favorite straps, and, since Melinda
got a two-foot long rubber whip from somewhere or other, I have spent at least a few weekends
wearing more stripes on my round fanny than an embarrassed zebra! But the pain is well worth
it, because the sex afterwards (and the loving companionship all the time) is simply spectacular!
Well, I have to go now. I hear Melinda’s footsteps coming down the hall. If anyone is
interested, I’m sitting here stark naked while writing this. My leatherette chair is just a little
cold, but I know my bottom won’t feel that way for very long. On the bed Melinda has left a
blindfold, as well as soft wrist and ankle cuffs. We’ve been getting into a bit of bondage lately.
And being tied down, spanked, and then loved is just incredibly exciting! I recommend it to all
your readers! Well, here she is, and (gulp) she’s carrying a cane!! Bye for now! – Jennifer

Of course, we're interested, silly girl! How could we not be?! In fact, your bye better be just
for now or I'll have to turn to Melinda to motivate you to write again and pick up right where
you left off. Bondage, canes, blindfolds and... Oh MY! Please DO tell before I have to! - Barb

For your convenience, the eye-popping pic above/most others in

our new interactive format are hyperlinks to applicable sites!
 Soapy & Rosy Reprimand!
Much to mother’s chagrin, I was a tomboy growing up. She
tried to get me to wear a dress since I was a little girl, but
the only way she could make me was by spanking my
bottom. That worked when I was a kid, but my mother
really didn't want to be outted for spanking her teenaged
daughter just to get her to wear a dress, so she just gave up
and gave in to my wearing jeans and tee shirts all the time.
That meant to school, social gatherings, just everywhere!
If that wasn't bad enough, when I was 14 I started hanging
out with the guy who lived next door to us. His name was
David. Once he found out just what kind of girl I was, he had
no trouble treating me like one of the guys. This meant I
played baseball with him and his friends after school, hung
out in their beat up clubhouse, or whatever he and the other
guys did. I thought it was great, but my mother was at the end
of her rope! She had a daughter, a very pretty daughter from
what she kept telling me and she wanted me to act like a girl,
not some sloppy guy!
Everything came to a head when the guys invited me to
come along with them one night to tag some of the fences and
buildings in our neighborhood with graffiti. It was sort of my
initiation into their gang. In an effort to get out of it, knowing it was wrong to do, I told them I never
did anything like that before and didn't know what to write so maybe they could have me do
something else. All the guys laughed, including David. He handed me a list of words to write and a
few cans of colorful spray paint. I was to meet him and the other guys as soon as it got dark and then
they'd show me where I was supposed to leave my mark. I was warned that if I was late, I'd be kicked
out of the club and not allowed to hang out with any of them again! Then we all left and I went home.
Just after dark, I sneaked out and met the other guys and they showed me where to leave my
artwork and words. The artwork they left up to me, but the words they wanted me to write
were words I'd never used or even said, mainly because my mother would have washed my
mouth out with soap right after or before she would spank my bottom to a shiny red!
I pulled David aside and told him that I didn't want to do any of this. David accused me of
really being just a sissy girl and said if I didn't want to hang out with him or his guys, then I
could just go home and play with my dolls! That really hurt! I'd show him who was a sissy girl!
The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the back of a squad car, having gotten caught spray
painting some very naughty four letter words in bright red on someone's garage. It was bad
enough getting caught spray painting those words, but it was only my first garage! I had at
least four more places to hit. Some tomboy I was. When David and the other guys found out,
they'd never let me become one of their group.
When I was taken inside the police station, to my shock and surprise, David and three of the
other guys were all sitting there, having been caught spray painting their graffiti on the fences and
garages of other houses in our neighborhood. Each policeman had taken pictures of the evidence
that would be used against us in court. But now, parents started showing up to pick up their child
and take them home and, from what I could tell, all those tough guys weren't so tough when their
parent walked through the door to retrieve said delinquent. That included my mother. She was told what
I’d done and shown the pictures of my crime, and signed the papers to get me released into her custody.
All the way home in the car my mother lectured me on damaging other people's property,
hanging out with the wrong kind of kids, using "those" kinds of words, whether writing them
down or daring to say them out loud was wrong and when we got home, she intended to make it
very clear to me that things were changing that very night!
Apologizing over and over again didn't do any good. Once we got home, mom took me into her
bathroom, lathered up a big bar of soap and after a short struggle, which I lost with a hard couple of
swats to my backside, the soap was stuck in my mouth. It tasted awful and made me gag, but mom
forced me to bite and hold it my mouth until my lips and tongue were coated with soap and bubbly
rivulets of the vile tasting stuff were running down my throat and out the corners of my mouth!
During that terrible time, mom undid my jeans and yanked them down my legs. Finally taking the
bar of soap out of my mouth, she took me and her hairbrush over to a chair she pulled out into the
open, sat down and pulled me down across her lap. She scolded me for what I’d done and trying to
be something I wasn't and would never be: a boy!
 Fetching photos enhancing this letter courtesy of/copyright:

Another one of the FIVE fantastic sites created by & showcasing the thrilling talents of Claire Fonda In fact,
that’s her ladyship above washing the mouth of her naughty screen daughter, played by Elise, in the marvelously
girlish act of submission few other spanking producers capitalize on as well. Bravo!! girlspanksgirl.com features
a fine array of spanking flicks available for your instant enjoyment on-line via membership to any of Claire’s sites
(links to all available on each) or all five with a Fonda Pass.

While mom was scolding me, she was working my panties down to my knees. She then went
silent and let the weight and hard back of that old wooden hairbrush of hers do all the rest of
her talking! It spoke in a loud and simple code of CRACKS! SMACKS! SPLATS! and WHACKS! But
it meant a lot to me, and hurt a helluva lot more!
My mother was P-I-S-S-E-D! My spanking went on for what seemed like a good hour and, as far as I
could tell, not one SMACK of that brush was held back! Each time it landed on one cheek or the other,
it hurt so bad that I bounded forward, cried out and kicked my feet. And it didn’t stop biting my
bottom until I worked my panties down my legs and shot them off my feet. I wasn’t aware of that and
didn’t care until I realized how naked I was after and wished for them to pull up!
My mother finally stopped spanking me, and I settled down to just bawl out my misery, but
even that was a punishment because of all soap left in my mouth! I shook my head, swallowed
and drooled, but that wasn't quite good enough to clear the bubbles and taste from my mouth!
Sobbing until I could sob no more, Mom smacked my bottom across both cheeks and told me I was
finished dressing like a boy! Then she smacked me a few more times and told me I would never write
graffiti on anyone's walls, especially our neighbors ever again! Finally, she gave me her last swats, the
very hardest of all!, and told me that I would never use any words like I had that night ever again!
For your convenience, pics above/most others in our new interactive format are hyperlinks to applicable sites!

I got up the strength to tell her I had stopped wanting to be a boy, dress like one or act like
one. I swore it, and that I would never do anything like I did that night again! Mom then picked
me up, gave me a hug and told me how much she loved me and then took me to a corner of her
bedroom to stand and let my red, hot butt sizzle for 15 minutes.
When I was finally allowed to get out of the corner, my mother stripped off my tee shirt and
sent me to take a shower. Once I was dried off, she put me to bed. That night I slept on my
stomach with the covers shoved down to the end of my bed and my pajama bottoms on the
floor. It took some time, but I finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning when I went to dress, all my jeans and tee shirts were gone and in their
place were feminine tops and bottoms. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to start dressing
like a girl or suffer the consequences of a continual sore behind.
Speaking of consequences, before my court date, I reported to my neighbor's house to paint
over the graffiti and apologized for what I had done. This went far with the judge and the
charges were to be dismissed after I performed 25 hours of volunteer service. My cohorts in
crime, including David, didn't do as I did until they were ordered to by the judge and got 100
hours of volunteer service.
After a time, I got used to wearing some frilly stuff, you know skirts, cute tops, even shorts
and I started to enjoy the looks I got from the boys at school. Those kinds of looks were much
different and nicer than when I used to wear my ripped tomboy's clothes. Even David started
looking at me differently.
About six months after that night that we all got in trouble, David asked me to the school
dance. We never really talked about it that much, but it was pretty much understood that his
parents saw that he stopped hanging around those other boys after that night and I imagine he
did so standing for a time.
I'm not sure what would have happened to me if mom hadn't cared enough to give me the
spanking she did that night, or the mouth washing either. But I can say that I’m glad she did
now, and thoroughly enjoy everything about grown women getting punished like little girls.
Spankings still hurt like hell and soap still tastes like shit, but I enjoy them now in a different
and better way with my surrogate moms than I when my real mom did the honors! – Theresa

As you should enjoy them, Theresa, and hopefully will for as long as you’d like with your partners and, I
trust, with us too?! As a caring but stern surrogate mom myself several daughters over, I’d love to hear about
your adult adventures and can assure you that our many other never too old to be naughty daughter at heart
readers and fans will, too. There are many big bad Momma’s girls about, and too few have been as bold and
fortunate as you to be living the fantasy! Thanks & warm spanking wishes, dear! – Barb
 Roommate's Cell Phone Chastisement!
ALL PEOPLE WHO OWN CELL PHONES have most likely heard by know that it isn't safe to drive
and use your cell phone at the same time. I certainly heard about it and my girlfriend, Darcy
and I talked about it enough. We agreed no call or text was worth getting killed or maimed over
and made a pact that I kept. Then, just this one time, I bent the rules a bit. I just never thought
anything would happen and I was very lucky. I even considered myself lucky that Darcy knew
exactly what to do to curb my carelessness, once she got over her anger.
I sat outside our house, trying to think of something to tell her. I already knew how Darcy
would react. I could practically see her face turning all shades of red as I told her about the small
accident I got in to with her car. It wasn’t that big a deal, but it took me nearly two weeks to
convince her that if she just loaned me her car today so that I could go to more job interviews,
than if I were to take the city bus, there might be a good chance I could land a job. And then it
happened. I was trying check out the direction on my cell phone and I only looked down for a
moment. In just that very moment, I continued driving through one of those yellow, then red
lights, but the car in front of me stopped. I slammed on my brakes and turned, only scraping the
side of the car in front of me. It had been lucky for me I didn’t hit any other cars, but it was
unlucky for me that the policeman that saw the accident had also seen me looking down at my cell
phone. That was one of the things he cited me for on the ticket I was holding in my hand outside
the front door of our house. A ticket I would have to show Darcy or make matters worse.
We only had started living together a year ago. When we made the decision to live together,
we also made the decision that Darcy would take control of things, thereby giving her control of
me as well. We both agreed that I needed some growing up to do as well as supervision and
discipline when it was called for. That’s why I love you so much. From that very first time we
met at the spanking party we had both chosen to attend, it was as if we were meant to meet.
Once we did meet and started talking, we hit it off as if we were made for each other. I needed
a woman who was sure of herself and who enjoyed spanking other women. I didn’t want to be
dominated, just cared for and spanked when it was necessary and Darcy, you were that woman.
How beautiful Darcy was in her all black outfit she wore to the party. She was 33, stood
almost 5' 10", without heels, and had long shoulder-length auburn hair. Where I was 30, stood
only 5' 6", without heels and wore my black hair in a short pixie-style. I wore a short, plaid
mini skirt and a tailored white blouse, making me feel more like I was a school girl, than a
grown woman of 30.
We both entered the party room together, but separately coming through opposite doors. When
our eyes met, it was instant. Darcy gave me the once over and shook her head a little and I just
smiled and gave her one of my bratty looks right back at her. As she walked towards me, I could
feel my bottom tingle and soon I felt the crotch of my panties were damp with excitement.
We sat down together and talked while we ate our evening meal. How I loved that Darcy
dominated the conversation and how she made me feel obligated to answer whatever question she
presented to me. Darcy learned all about my previous spanking experiences, from the time I was
at home until I left.
By the time they served the coffee, she knew I was a lesbian and looking for a relationship with
all that implied, including spanking. I wasn’t as quick to learn everything about Darcy that
evening, but I did know that she knew how to give a good spanking and was also looking for a live-
in relationship with another woman.
After the night at the spanking party, we started seeing each other. After a few months, a lot of
spanking and a good deal of lovemaking, we came to a mutual decision to live together. It was
during those first months together that I was notified I would be laid off and that was when I
started looking for another job. Since my job had been close to our house, I hadn’t purchased a
car and would get a ride from Darcy. Most times, though I took public transportation. This made
searching much longer and a few times I had lost out on getting an interview because it took me
too long to arrive. That was when I started trying to convince Darcy to let me borrow her car.
I certainly couldn’t wait outside forever. Darcy's car was at the garage getting repaired and I
was supposed to be home on time or she would spank me, something she had done on
numerous occasions when we first started living together.
I had no other choice but to open our front door and prepare myself for the inevitable
consequences that would follow once I told Darcy what had happened. I hoped she would be
kind and not blister my bottom too badly. It was just a matter of what kind of mood she was
in. She really loved her car.
I walked in and we hugged and kissed at the door. Darcy looked at me and the expression on
my face gave me away. She knew right a way something was wrong. Then she asked where I
had parked her car because she didn’t hear me drive up. I tried to ignore the question,
commenting on the aroma from the kitchen was so inviting, but Darcy wouldn’t have any of it
and walked outside. She returned almost immediately and wanted to know where her car was. I
tried to tell her not to get angry before I had a chance to tell her what had happened, but it was
already too late. Darcy stood in front of me, her arms folded across her chest and tapping her
foot impatiently.

Pleasing pics enhancing this letter copyright/courtesy of:

Sarah Gregory's personal spanking website, SarahGregorySpanking.com, offers traditional disciplinary

spanking, playful spanking, and sensual spanking via a members section featuring many new faces to the
spanking world as well as many other established fetish and spanking stars. Updated 6 days a week, Ms. Gregory
already offers up to over 80 full Fem-Fem & Male-Fem spanking videos edited, directed and produced by herself,
a girl who has had a spanking fetish for as long as she can remember. Sarah can be seen not only as a bottom,
receiving a good spanking, but also doing quite a bit of topping as in the pics above.
Ms. Gregory also has a great blog featuring tales & pics from her many personal exploits &
adventures in & outside of our community. Click here to check out Sarah’s blog & we bet you’ll be
as impressed with this lovely lady spanko as much as we are!

I tried to explain everything, just how it had happened, attempting to leave out the part
about the cell phone. Without explaining about the cell phone the accident didn’t make sense
and Darcy caught on to that almost at once! She told me I already had earned a spanking and
instead of making matters worse, I better explain how the accident had happened and what
damage did her car sustain.
Placing my hands behind me as if I could protect my bottom from the spanking Darcy was
going to give me, I explained the whole situation and then took out the ticket I received from
the police officer. Darcy finished looking over the ticket and what the officer had checked. I
watched in horror as Darcy's eyes grew wider and wider. As she looked down at me, the
expression on her face said it all. I was going to be disciplined for being so careless.
I felt a shiver run down my spine and my eyes began to fill with tears. I tried to convince
Darcy that her insurance would pay for the damage, so it wouldn’t be a problem. But she was
more concerned at how careless I was. Using my cell phone while I was driving. Couldn’t I have
pulled over and used the phone? That meant I was also thoughtless as well and put my life and
the lives of others in jeopardy because of what I had done.
For some reason, I took offense to Darcy lecturing me over and over again and, for the first
and most likely the very last time, I raised my voice to her insisting that everyone and
everything was okay, including me and her damn car! I repeated once again that I was sorry it
happened and for her to stop making such a big deal about it!
Darcy grabbed my arm and held it tightly as she pulled me towards our bedroom. I tried to
pull away, apologizing for my behavior and for raising my voice to her, but it was too late for
that. Darcy told me that she was going to show me just what I could expect each time I was
careless, thoughtless and dared to raise my voice to her. Trying to pull away from her hold was
pointless, though I tried digging my feet in the carpet anyway.

For your convenience, pics here/most others in our

new interactive format are hyperlinks to applicable sites!

Can’t resist comment: This gal’s gorgeous round & rousingly reddened bottom... Bravo, Sarah!... & the scenic
overhead/valley views displayed above coerced me to chose this photo set. But I could definitely do without the huge
tramp stamp marring the view & covering up those darling dimples some of us old-fashioned purists prefer. - MC
 Before Darcy headed for our bed, she took a slight detour by the dresser and grabbed her oak
hairbrush. Once she reached our bed, she sat down and pulled me across her lap. I tried to
struggle, but I was no match for her strength and she flipped up my skirt to my back and
yanked down my panties until they were down around my knees. I’ve been in this position
many times and never once got out of it until my bottom was bright red and sometimes so sore
I couldn't sit for days without a pillow. Yet I kicked and squirmed as if all of that would set me
free, when all it did was anger Darcy more because she and I both knew I earned the spanking I
was about to get. It was something that I expected from Darcy and yet I still fought my hardest
not to get!
Darcy brought the hairbrush down across both of my cheeks at the same time. The pain
caused me to jerk wildly and made Darcy hold me tight around my waist. Her hairbrush landed
on my bottom again, only harder and before the hairbrush landed another time, she made it
clear to me that I would learn what she was teaching me before I was let go! Darcy then sealed
her promise with five or six hard and swats across the crack of my bottom and a loud cry of
pain escaped my lips! And then it happened. Just like the time before and the time before that.
My eyes released tears, my face grew hot and a sexual hot flash exploded inside me! Even
though my bare bottom was blazing, the heat radiated through my entire body and I started
arching my bottom, inviting the next swat of the hairbrush.
All the signs were there and Darcy stopped spanking me for a moment, setting the hairbrush
next to her. Though she knew how much I needed and deserved to be spanked, she couldn't
help but let her hand lightly massage my bottom. I moaned lightly as her palm slides down the
open crack of my bottom to my now wet sex. Darcy gently pushed my thighs open and her hand
slipped in between my thighs. Her breathing grows louder as her fingers tease my clit.
Leaning over me, Darcy bends down closer and starts kissing my bottom, her lips pressing
gently on my skin. There is no denying how much we both want each other at that very
moment, but it is up to Darcy whether she continues spanking me or she gives in to her desires
and mine.
 Having made her decision, Darcy gently lifts me up and slides me onto the bed. We work as a
well-oiled twosome and remove all of our clothes until we are now laying naked on top of the
bed. My hands move all over Darcy's body while my lips find their way around her hardening
nipples. We embrace and soon our lips connect in a passionate kiss.
The time is here as we both position ourselves to give each other multiple pleasure. I am on
top of her, my face between her opened legs and my legs are spread open before Darcy. Soon
my tongue is moving up and down, lightly massaging her little bud and tasting her sweet juices.
I feel Darcy's wet tongue sliding in and out of my vagina. Unable to hold back any longer, we
both surrender and cum, our bodies moving as one.
We lay there for a moment. I have slid off and am now laying next to Darcy, though I am on
my stomach. Both of us agree how wonderful making love to each other is and how much in
love we are. Having said that, Darcy says we still have some unfinished business to take care
of. Caught off guard I disagree at first, but she brings herself to an upright position and leans
up against the headboard. Darcy orders me to hand her the hairbrush and then she pulls me
over her lap.
While I laid across Darcy's lap, with little if any energy to fight off the spanking still to come,
Darcy informed me that though she hadn't planned on the turn of events, it would give both of
us a chance to prove something she had always wondered about. I didn't respond and she
continued while she rubbed my bare bottom with her soft palm. Darcy said she had heard that
once experiencing one or more intense orgasms, if you are spanked directly afterwards, just like
I was going to be, the pain and sting from the spanking is a lot worse. And that went for men
and for women.

I begged Darcy not to spank me anymore, but she said that we had to prove for ourselves
that this orgasm thing along with a spanking was true or false. Besides, Darcy told me that I
really hadn't received all that was coming to me. Then she placed her arm around my waist,
tightened her hold and started spanking me where she had left off, letting the hairbrush land
time and again over both my cheeks until I was crying, pleading with her to stop! There was no
sign of excitement as she continued to spank me and my bottom felt as though I was sitting on
hot coals! Never did I ever think that a spanking could hurt so much! Darcy was indeed
proving that taking the excitement or orgasm out of a spanking, made the spanking seem to
hurt a lot more and she could stop any time she wanted if I had my way!
For the first time, I reached back to cover my bottom. Darcy took my hand and placed it at
my side and gave me the hardest of all the spanks thus far, causing me to kick my feet and
pound my one hand against the bed covers. Darcy was surprised by my outburst, though later
she told me that it was at that very moment that she came in shuddering waves of pure ecstasy!
So I guess that meant the effect of a spanking following an orgasm only worked on the spankee,
not the spanker!
Aware of my pain, she stopped spanking me and let me stay across her lap while I cried.
Darcy noticed my bottom was now a dark crimson color with evidence that the head of the oak
hairbrush had left a few sliver-moon-shaped marks across the wider part of my bottom. She
calmed me down, her hand slowly caressing my back, but she was careful as her hand lightly
touched my bottom.
Darcy asked me if there was anything I wanted to say. Swallowing hard, I told her how sorry
I was about her car and that I would never be careless with it again or anything else that
belonged to her. And, she asked, expecting more apology. I told her that I never would use my
cell phone again while driving. Darcy, pleased with my apology, promises to give me something
special before we go to bed. Noticing the look of concern on my face, she promised it wouldn't
be another spanking.
I do hope you at Scarlett Hill will use our story in Woman to Woman Spanking. I know I
might have said too much about our obvious love for one another, but the story included more
than a spanking. Never use your cell phone when you are driving! And the spanking
information was right to. If you cum during a spanking and are spanked immediately
afterwards, the spanking feels much more intense and painful. I know because for a good week
afterwards, my bottom was so sore, especially sitting on those awfully hard plastic seats in the
public buses! — An anonymous naughty miss

Sorry, sweetie, but you’ll find no sympathy here for your sitting discomfort, not that you
expected or even wanted any considering how naughty and lucky you know you are to have
found your special spanking someone. Congratulations, and please do share the wealth with any
other spanking-hot encounters and adventures you and Darcy have had or, I’m sure, will be
having in future. Few of us “living the spanking lifestyle”, and all of us want to know every
naughty detail! – Barb

A couple of more presumably personal & particularly

wonder worthy pics what with the belt hanging around
the bare bottomed girl’s neck at left, (Perhaps for the
another shot?), & what could be some additional
spanking play going on behind the two gals below.
(Perhaps inspiring them to join in?) Unfortunately, we’ll
probably never know the truth, but guessing is a big
part of the fun of pics like these, don’t you agree?
 We all can’t satisfy our never too old to be
naughty wishes & stern desires, ladies. Yet! But
we all do have memories to cherish & share of

Where
The Magic
ALL Began!
PLEASE DO CONSIDER SHARING YOURS in a future SHE fanzine! It really IS fun, exciting & darn liberating to
finally reveal your naughtiest secrets, be applauded by your peers, AND leave a lasting legacy behind for future
generations of spanking enthusiasts to appreciate! Confidentiality guaranteed, of course, unless you’re really
ready to come out! If so, fine by us! Just say so! We’ll even include an e-mail address if you’d like! Oh, & don’t
worry if writing isn’t your thing. Our editors will polish your story until it shines as bright as it should without
altering your very own treasured memories one little bit!

Spanked by the Shopkeeper!

ISN'T IT WEIRD HOW PERSONAL MEMORIES come rushing back
like they just happened yesterday when you see, hear, read or,
don’t they say, smell a familiar fragrance from long ago? I think it
is and, when the triggered memory is great, it’s a real joy to jump
back in time for a few thrilling seconds or moments like I did when
I read the story in WWS 32 about the shopkeeper who spanked a
girl she caught giving in to the temptation to steal like a lot of
kids do and I did once when I was 12. And only once because of
red-cheeked reward I got from the shopkeeper, Mrs. Myers, instead
of the slap on the wrist most shoplifters seem to get these days.
I’m as sure as I can be that there’d be less stealing and even
fewer repeat offenders if shopkeepers took the law into their own
hands like Mrs. Myers did with me and other kid customers who
couldn’t resist a chocolate bar, pack of gum, or piece of candy they
didn’t have the money to pay for. Mrs. Myers was usually a kind,
old, grandmotherly lady. But when she caught you stealing, she
turned into a sadistic monster and blistered your bottom bad!
I found out just how bad one Saturday when a few of us kids ventured downtown spend our
allowances on a movie, popcorn, soda, candy, and as many sweets as we still had money to stuff
our pockets with from Mrs. Myers' store. She was always nice to us kids, unless we were on a
sugar high and bothering her other "paying" customers. Then she would scoot us out with little
whacks across our backsides to encourage us out the door.
It was at this time that I stayed in the store, hiding towards the back. When she was busy
getting rid of the other kids, I made my way to the shelf that held all the more expensive candy
bars and grabbed as many as I could, forcing them in my pockets. It wasn't that I didn't have
enough money to pay for them, I just wanted to use my money for something else. Stealing
four or five candy bars, I could also sell them to my friends and have more money for myself.
Having successfully stuck the candy in my pocket, or so I thought, I headed for the front
entrance to the store, but halfway out the door, a store clerk stopped me. This was a small
store with only a few clerks and it was just my luck to get stopped by Rhonda, a snooty 17 year
old girl none of us liked. She asked if I planned on paying for the candy in my pocket but
before I could answer, she called for Mrs. Myers to come to the first checkout stand. (Back
then, there was no speaker system in her store.)
Mrs. Myers was by my side in moments and Rhonda, raising her voice, told her what happened,
making it the only thing you could hear throughout the entire store. Mrs. Myers asked if I took
the candy and to produce the evidence at once. I reached into my pockets and placed the candy
bars on the counter. Rhonda just looked at me and smiled a very mean smile. She was so proud
of herself for apprehending me, that I was sure it would be all over school on Monday.
With the candy in one hand and holding my hand in the her other hand, Mrs. Myers escorted
me to the back of the store. She opened her private office door and told me to walk in. Once
inside she dropped the candy on her desk and closed her door.
Sitting down behind her desk, she reached for the phone book. As she started thumbing
through it, she asked if I was the little Roberts' girl that lived on Pine Street. At first I wouldn't
answer, knowing that Mrs. Myers was about to call my mother. Mrs. Myers looked at me quite
seriously and told me that if I wanted to make matters worse for myself, she could just call the
police and then they would call my mother. Or she could call my mother so it might go easier
on me. I hesitated a few moments until I saw Mrs. Myers pick up the phone.
I pleaded with her not to call my mother or the police, promising to do anything if she just
wouldn't call! I'd work cleaning up the floors or the shelves. I'd pay for the candy right then.
Then I reached in my pocket and pulled out enough money to purchase much more than the
candy I took. At that point, Mrs. Myers asked me why did I steal the candy if I had plenty of
money to pay for it. I admitted that I wanted to save my money so I could buy something else.
I thought it wise not to mention that I had intended on selling the candy I stole to my friends to
make more money. Hearing my explanation, Mrs. Myers had a look on her face that clearly
showed me she wasn't all that happy with my explanation.
Mrs. Myers was quiet for a bit and then closed the phone book. She scolded me for stealing.
She told me that it was even worse because I had money to pay for the items and still I took
them and that was why she was going to give me a spanking! It was lucky I was sitting down
because when she said she was going to spank me, my knees got weak! I told her she didn't
have any right to spank me and she actually agreed with me. Then she picked up the phone and
asked me for my home number. I begged her to wait, but she said if I didn't take the spanking I
had coming from her, then she would call my mother and have her punish me!
She certainly couldn't do that! My mother would be so embarrassed and upset that I stole,
that the spanking she would give me would be one that I wouldn't recover from for quite some
time. I thought how that would look when I went back to school and couldn't sit down on those
awful wooden chairs. Certainly Rhonda would pass around the word that I stole, that she
caught me and I got spanked when I got home! Maybe if I took Mrs. Myers' spanking, no one
would know?
I asked Mrs. Myers if she spanked me, could she do it after the store closed so no one would
be around. She sat back in her chair and thought for a moment. Then she asked if she agreed
to spank me after her store was closed, how did she know I would return. I promised that I
would return whenever she wanted me to, especially since all she would have to do was drop by
my house and tell my mother the whole thing and I didn't want my mother to know. Mrs. Myers
agreed to the deal and I left her office minus the candy bars. It did give me some pleasure to
see disappointment written all over Rhonda's face that I wasn't leaving with my mother or the
police. That was almost worth the spanking I had coming from Mrs. Myers!
Returning home, I went through the kitchen. Mom was fixing dinner, but stopped to ask me
how my day was. I told her not anything special, though I did volunteer to help that Mrs. Myers
at the grocery store. Mom thought that was nice of me and planted a big kiss on my cheek. I
told her I had to get down there by 5 p.m. when her store closed and I'd be home in about an
hour. My mother asked if I wanted a ride from the store and I told her it would be better that I
walked home, thinking of my sore bottom that Mrs. Myers planned on giving me.
It was about 4:45 when I arrived at the front door of the store. The last few customers were
filing out with their bags and the employees were closing out the tills. I stayed out of sight
until Rhonda had driven off. I certainly didn't want her hovering around, listening to my
spanking taking place.
At exactly 5 p.m., Mrs. Myers came to the front door, let me in and locked the door behind
us. Then she told me to follow her to her office and we'd get started. All the time I followed
Mrs. Myers, I was measuring her up. She was a short and rather round woman with a nice smile.
She had silver hair and always wore a dress. None of that bothered me. But the size of her
hands worried me. They looked enormous next to mine! I reached back, trying to measure my
bottom's width and thought just one smack from her hand would cover my entire butt!
 We reached her office all to quickly and once both of us were inside, she closed and locked
the door. As I stood there, I noticed that she had moved the chair I sat in earlier to the middle
of the room. She sat down and told me to stand next to her on the right side. Taking a large
gulp and then another, I managed to make my feet move and did as I was told. I kept thinking
how embarrassed I was going to be, lying across Mrs. Myers' lap, getting spanked. She only
knew me because my mother shopped in her store and I sometimes came along. Now in just
seconds I'd be feeling the weight of her disappointment over my bottom. There was no telling
how hard she spanked or how long. It didn't matter because I agreed to accept my punishment
or else she would tell my mother what I did. I felt sort of noble, taking a spanking to protect
my mother from being embarrassed!

The late Mr. Churchward’s talents are as obvious as his understanding of the two-for-blushing-
one-benefits of the dreaded one cheek at a time bit of torture he drew above. Thanks, sir. RIP

Just as I was feeling so noble, I heard Mrs. Myers order me to take down my pants. I looked
at her and couldn't believe what she said. She told me either I do it or she would and to make it
snappy! It was bad enough that she said what she had said, but it was even worse because I had
a terrible feeling where this was headed. It wasn't the first time I had been spanked. Along
with my brother and sister, we had all experienced getting spanked, but it was usually my
mother who did the honors and in the privacy of our own bedroom. Now I was being ordered to
lower my pants in front of a woman who only sold us food and household items!
 Mrs. Myers raised her hands and reached for my pants. I quickly stepped back and undid the
top snap and lowered the front zipper. Then ever so slowly, I placed my hands on either side of
my hips and pushed my pants down to just below my bottom. Mrs. Myers wasn't going to make
this easy and told me to push my pants all the way down to my ankles. Having gone this far, I
leaned over and pushed my pants all the way down. Now I stood there waiting for what was to
follow.
Just as quick as a flash of light, Mrs. Myers had me across her soft, wide thighs. Then what I
had feared happened. I felt her fingers in the waistband of my panties and she started pulling
them down! At first I tried to fight her, but she was much too strong for me, slapping my hand
away. When she had finished, my panties were down on top of my pants around my ankles.
From that moment, I no longer thought about my mother being embarrassed, only me!
Mrs. Myers placed her large hand over my bare bottom and scolded me for stealing from her.
She lectured that she had to pay for everything in her store and for me to come in and
purposely steal something when I could have paid for it was stealing, plain and simple.
As soon as the shopkeeper’s lecture ended, she started to spank me quite hard and fast with
her hand! I kicked my feet up and down, but it didn't do anything but make Mrs. Myers spank
much harder! She continued lecturing as she spanked away. I wasn't the first to go across her
lap and I probably wouldn't be the last! But, she said, she only had to give a spanking just one
time. No one ever returned for a repeat punishment! Then she let go a flurry of spanks that
lasted only a few minutes, but felt as though it was never ending! By the time she stopped and
placed me on my feet, I was crying uncontrollably from both the shame of what I had done and
the pain of the fire that was all over my bare butt!
I bent over to retrieve my panties and pants, but Mrs. Myers stopped me and made me stand
in the corner. So for the next 10 or 15 minutes, I stood there crying buckets of tears while my
bright red hot bottom glowed. I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was 5:45 p.m. I had to
be home by 6:00 or I might be in for another spanking for being late to dinner. This only made
my tears fall more!
Finally, Mrs. Myers told me I could get dressed, which I did quickly and painfully now that my
pants fit more snug across my freshly spanked and swollen bottom. Before I left, she turned me
towards her and warned me never to steal from her or anyone else again! And if I was foolish
enough to try stealing from her again, not only would she spank my bare bottom again, but she
would also call my mother, who we both knew would spank me to! She then walked me to the
front door, unlocked it and sent me on my way with a good CRACK to my bottom!
I did make it home on time, though the hurried walk was also a very painful one! Each time I
moved to put one foot in front of the other, my panties and my pants rubbed over my sore
bottom. Dinner was also a painful experience and I couldn't wait to finish. I went at once to
my bedroom and took down my pants to see if the pain matched the damage. It didn’t. I was
sure Mrs. Myers blistered me or spanked me raw. But my bottom was fine except for the pinkish
red patches covering my buns where the shopkeeper had landed the most slaps.
Those spank spots were also still warm and very tender, and made me feel lucky that Mrs.
Myers had only used her hand. I didn’t want to imagine how much worse my punishment could
have been if she’d chosen to spank me with something harder. There were lots of choices in her
store! And I want to or dare to find out!
One hand spanking was all I needed to see that crime doesn’t pay, and I never tried to steal
anything from anywhere again. I also avoided Mrs. Myers store for as long as I could, but a girl
needs sweets and I couldn’t keep coming up with excuses to wait outside when my friends went
in without making them suspicious. I didn’t want them to know that I got spanked for stealing,
and none of them ever did find out.
Mrs. Myers kept her promise to keep what happened between us private, and to put it us, too.
She was her normal, smiling and pleasant old self when I went back into her store for the first
time after my spanking, and didn’t mention it again except one time when she had to go in back
to get something and leave me alone out front.
I think I was 14 and still can hear Mrs. Myers chuckle, “I know I can trust you now, don’t I?
You still aren’t too big or old to go back over my knee, are you?”
I believe I replied, “N-Na-Nah-Nahh-NO, ma’am,” and know I blushed bright-red because Mrs.
Myers pointed it out. Then she said something to ease my embarrassment that I’ll never forget.
“No, you’re not and, just between us, you’re also not the only naughty child I’ve caught with
their hand in my cookie jar and taught a lesson to over my knees.”
I shouldn’t have been, but I was shocked and stammered, “I-I-I’m n-not?” I was sure I was the
only kid I knew or in the world who had ever been spanked by the kindly old shopkeeper for
stealing, and finding out that I wasn’t was a real revelation, relief, and reason to start
wondering when Mrs. Myers wouldn’t tell me who any of the others were.
The shopkeeper said she’d made the same promise to them as me, and wouldn’t break it or budge
when I asked her for hints. All she would say was that I’d be surprised by how many kids she’d
caught and spanked, and who some of them of were. And that none of them took their punishments
any better than me, or were tempted to steal and take another trip over her knee again, either.
I felt like the trapped teenager I was with Mrs. Myers bringing up the sorest subject in my life, and
wished I was anywhere else with the shopkeeper who’d bared and spanked my bottom over her lap so
soundly smirking at me like a proud parent. But realizing that I wasn’t the “only one” was worth the
embarrassment, and the curiosity it caused.
What Mrs. Myers’ said about how many kids she’s spanked and who some of them were fascinated
me. My siblings, friends, classmates and every kid for miles around went her store, and figuring out if
any of them was on her list consumed me. The memories and feelings I’d buried about what happened
to me came bubbling back up, and I began to appreciate them as much as fantasizing about my
favorite suspects carrying on like babies over the old shopkeepers lap like I had.
I never did uncover another of Mrs. Myers deserving victims, but I’m sure searching, suspecting,
and fantasizing about them over the shopkeeper’s knees is responsible for the change in my attitude
towards the spanking she gave me and my passion for it today. I’m also sure that the same treatment
would work just as well today on kids, teenagers and adult shoplifters too unless they’re driven by
kleptomania or something more than the temptation to steal alone.
People like that probably need more than one spanking to shame and scare them straight, but
maybe not. The kind of spanking Mrs. Myers gave me and the other kids she caught shoplifting
did the trick and, for me at least, came with fringe benefits, too! – Marsha

Spanking shoplifters and petty criminals of all sorts and ages instead of slapping them on the
wrist or sending them off for counseling sounds as good to us as it once did, Marsha, with or
without the fringe benefits you and, as I suspect you believed, at least one of the many other kids
unexpectedly got out of the admirably old-fashioned and effective lesson Mrs. Myers taught you. I
know I would have thought so and gone out of mind trying to find them, too! Feeling like “the
only one on earth” is probably a thing of the past these modern days, but it’s damned lonely just
the same as finally finding or connecting with kindred spanking spirits is as exciting as it ever
was. Thanks for connecting with and entertaining us! – Barb

Cartoon courtesy of chicagospankingreview.org, a fantastic free site full of all sorts of nicely naughty stuff like
this very cute creation by SPANKA! Click link above & check these fine folks out if you’re not already a CSR fan!
 Another Prized Public Spanking!
I WAS SPANKED MANY TIMES BY MY MOTHER while growing up and none of them were any
picnic. But the spanking that stands above the rest happened in the parking lot of a department
store in my mother’s van. We were on the third level since most of the first and second levels
were full.
Mom had taken me shopping for a dress for my junior prom. I was just 15 and this would be
my first dance that I had been invited to by a boy, so it was really important that I looked good.
But the dress I wanted, my mother refused to purchase. She said it was much too old for me
and much too provocative or some such excuse and she wouldn't let me get it. Instead, she
wanted me to wear this juvenile frock!
For at least two hours, I tried on dress after dress at the department store. Having tried on
the dress I wanted to wear almost from the start, my mother kept insisting that it wasn't
appropriate at my age to wear something like it and she kept bringing more and more dresses
into the dressing room. Each one seemed to get more obnoxious and just plain ugly than the
one before it. Of course, not getting my way didn't help my overall attitude or my opinion and I
actually threw a tantrum!
When I think of what I did, I couldn't believe that I did something so childish and neither
could my mother. She asked the sales lady if she would hold our room while she took care of
something outside. Mom promised it would only five or ten minutes at best. The sales lady
smiled at my mother and said to take all the time she needed.
Mom told me to get dressed. She then took my hand and we went back to the van. I knew we
were coming back because I heard my mother tell the sales lady to hold our room. Still thinking
about my dress and all those other seconds, I didn't think that my mother would actually spank
me in the van, but apparently that was exactly what she had in mind. She slid open the side
door and left it open. Then she ordered me inside, telling me that what she had to say should
be said in private.
Just like a lamb being led to slaughter, I voluntarily stepped inside the van. I went to sit
down on the couch like chair, but my mother told me to scoot over and then she slid in and sat
down where I had just been sitting. She turned and looked at me for a minute or two. She
pointed out that she was usually a pretty patient person and she had tried to be ever since I
was asked to the prom. She knew how nervous I was, wanting to look just right for my very
first date at a big dance. She knew that the tickets were already paid for and my date was just
waiting for the word on what color my dress would be so he could get the right color corsage.
Instead of going through all this, she could forget the whole thing and go home, not letting me
go at all. But, she wouldn't do that to the boy for fear I would get a bad reputation for standing
guys up or something.
Too upset to listen to what my mother was going on about, all I heard was that she could just
take me home and forget everything. I screeched at her, telling her she couldn't keep me from
going to the dance, even if I had to borrow a dress from one of my friends! My date had already
rented a tux and he got permission to use his dad's car and what's more, I had already told all
my girlfriends that I was going. I'd be ruined, socially and it would be all my mother's fault!
That was the straw that broke the camel's back! I had stepped over the line one too many
times. With the side door still open, my mother grabbed me and pulled me over her lap. She
flipped up my dress and yanked down my panties, all the while I was telling her she couldn't
spank me! But that was exactly what she did. It was short, but long enough that a few
shoppers that were walking by stopped to see what all the commotion was about. I was very
grateful that it was my face sticking out of the van and not my bare tush! Still a few of the
shoppers smiled and I think one even applauded and then they left.
It was just about that time that my mother reached over, yanked my panties back into place
and lowered my dress. Then she pushed me back up and gave me a choice. I could get my act
together and stop acting like a spoiled brat so we could continue our shopping trip or we could
go home and she would continue with the spanking she had just given me!
Still somewhat in shock that my mother had spanked me and spanked me practically out in
public, rubbing my bottom, I told her I wanted to go back into the store. She gave me one of
those warning looks to behave or else and then we got out of the van and headed back into the
store.
The night of the prom arrived and I wore this beautiful dress my mother and I found after we
went back in the store. As for the dress I threw a tantrum about, it couldn't hold a candle to
the one my mother and I had picked together.
 That pretty much sums up how my bottom felt, like someone had lit a candle under me!
Actually, a bunch of candles, but I was trying to be cute. Before we left the store, I apologized
to my mother in my dressing room. She gave me a hug, swatted my bottom and then went and
paid for my dress. Aren't mothers great! -- Lori Ann, via the web.

Sorry, butt... That’s the blushing end of this issue!

We sure do hope you enjoyed
our new interactive, color format!
In fact, we hope you enjoyed it so much that you'll want to join us again next time or, better yet,
help make our She-spanks-She fanzine even blushing better by sending a suggestion, comment,
letter, story, artistic doodle, web find or whatever to [email protected] or via
snail mail to Scarlett Hill, 1329 Highway 395 North, Suite 10-298, Gardnerville, NV 89410. Well,
that's it folks. Bye for now. See you next issue! And last but hardly least, thanks again for your
patronage and support! You really are the blushing BEST!! – Barb, Michael & the crew
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