A Visit to Aunt Alice's - F/Ff

Not written by me. Got it from an old board way back when.

 This story has nothing to do with the other Alice stories. I guess Alice was just a popular name at one point?


    It was late Sunday afternoon, and the two girls were having a bit
of fun, more delicious because it was so strictly forbidden.  Mother
had clearly made it clear that she would not tolerate in any way the
use of any tobacco in her household, and at least Linda knew that this
was so.  She had had some "experience" with mother's disapproval on
this count once, only two years before, but she had blissfully decided
to disregard that unpleasant memory.  So, Linda, the eighteen year old,
and her seventeen year old cousin, Susan, were gleefully puffing away
on their Marlboros when Mother/Aunt caught them in the act, quite by
accident and much to their later regret.
    This was their undoing.  Frantically stomping out the butts of
their Maroboros, the two immediately started a medley of banter and
excuses intended, however unsuccessfully, to placate their stern faced
Mother/Aunt.  Essentially, their pleading came down to assurances that
they would never do this again.  Their efforts, however, were most
unsuccessful, a fact that they soon regretted.  Linda's mother was
quite strict, even in this permissive age, and had a very handy
method--regretfully forgotten to Mother's way of thinking among all
the other parents in the neighborhood--to deal with such situations. 

    She did not listen, nor have to heed their pleads.  She had
redhandedly caught the teenaged pair in the illegal activity of
cigarette smoking.  Something, something had to be done to stop this in
its tracks.  Mother/Aunt knew how to do this.  It was something that
her daughter knew all too well and something her niece would learn
to dread.  Spanking--that forgotten mode of discipline--was in order,
and spanking it would be!! 

    Yet these two did not know this as yet, although Linda certainly
knew the likely outcome of her devious misbehavior.  On that occasion
two years before when her mother had caught her with cigarettes in her
possession and smoke on her breath, Mother had promptly marched her
home, Linda pleading and begging all the time.  Then, even though the
windows were wide open, Mother took Linda to the master bedroom on
the second floor, and once Linda had her pants and panties at half
mast and was draped over her mother's punitive knee, mother used the
backside of the wide oval wooden hairbrush on Linda's upturned and
bare behind for several minutes.  She turned those rear cheeks into
beet red, incredibly sore, and burning mounds of pulsating flesh. 
Linda spent a long time in the corner as well.  The memory came alive
as the two girls were sent upstairs to be punished. 

    Susan knew something was amiss.

    Susan felt nothing but fear and trepidation, and her feelings
were well founded.  Her cousin, older than her and knowing exactly what
was coming, looked terrible and very sorry for herself.  Aunt stopped
the procession of the two naughty girls for a moment at the hallway
closet.  She opened the door and fetched the sturdy wooden paddle
--THE PADDLE!--that hung inside.  "Why", pleaded Linda, "did it have
to be the paddle?"  (As if the hairbrush or the strap were any better!)
  For some reason, the paddle was a particularly feared and odious
instrument of correction for Linda. 
    Perhaps it was the simple fact that this four and a half inch
wide, fourteen inch long, half inch thick wooden board was only and
solely used for corporal punishment.  When, it did infrequently happen,
that one of her friends saw that "dreadful thing" (as Linda was wont
to refer to it) they knew that this was a spanking paddle.  That was
its sole use.  And Linda's friends did chuckle amongst themselves,
priding themselves that while this might be Linda's occasion fate to
have that awful thing applied to her behind, at least they didn't
ever have to face that predicament!  (Yet did they imagine--
a horrible thought--that that sturdy wooden paddle was applied to
Linda's bare behind?)

    These two teenagers who had just been caught smoking were going
to pay a dear price for their fleeting pleasure, a price that was going
to last a long time.  Aunt/Mother was going to give each girl a very
long and exceedingly painful session with the paddle.  What a lesson
they were going to learn.  Susan, seventeen, and her cousin Linda,
eighteen, were going to get spanked!!

    Linda had avoided her own special "board of education" for six
months and Susan had never had a spanking, but this afternoon that was
going to change.  A half hour later, when each was standing blubbering
in her corner, there was nothing they so regretted as those cigarettes,
but now that had IT coming. 

    Once both girls were duly punished, Aunt remained seated on the
spanking chair and watched intently the crimson rears of the two
disciplined girls.  It was then, and only then, that she asked questions,
lots of questions, that she expected immediate and correct answers to. 
As difficult as it was for the girls, standing there with their hands
trembling and hanging uselessly at their sides, wishing for nothing
but to rub and knead the horrible burning out of their behinds--but
being forbidden to do so--did they have a chance to answer their
punisher.  Refusal or inability to answer appropriately would mean
a dreaded return to Aunt's knee and still more burning stinging whacks
on their blazing red bare behinds.  Once, just once, Linda had answered
incorrectly twice after a particularly severe session with the wooden
backed hairbrush, and returned twice for reacquaintance with the
scorching whacks of the brush, yelling and screeching the whole
time.

    Oh, answer they did, and quickly and loudly.  No, never would
they ever smoke again; yes, they were bad, very bad, and deserved the
terribly painful spankings that Aunt had inflicted on them; oh, yes,
they would tell their friends what had happened to them, as embarrassing
as that would be, just anything to avoid the reacquaintance with the
paddle; yes, they did thank Aunt for taking the trouble of tanning
them; yes, it hurt, it hurt more than anything they could ever imagine
or remember, and they would never want another spanking; and, and,
and, yes, more slowly now, yes they would come and ask for a spanking
and go get the paddle, or the hairbrush or the strap (if that were
necessary) if they ever ever smoked again. 

    This was utterly awful.  What self respecting teenager would
willingly go to her mother or aunt with the request of a unbearably
painful punishment if she could avoid it?  Who would possibly feel the
need, under threat of even a double spanking (one now and another
tomorrow) to willingly submit to corporal punishment, especially
if none, absolutely none, of her friends ever got spankings?

    But that was in the future, a future they certainly did not look
forward to but at least then IT would be over.  Now, however, they had
to look forward to the embarrassing preparation, and then Susan would
watch horrified as Linda lifted her skirts and went over her mother's
knee, draping herself over her lap staring at the floor and waiting,
and waiting, and waiting.

    Linda, who was experienced and first to go, was in position and
had to lift up slightly as her mother put the paddle on the small of
her back and inserted her fingers just underneath the band of her
flimsy panties and pulled them down to mid thigh.  At this a wail
was emitted from Linda's lips, she was so exposed and vulnerable,
and she was soon to get her paddling.  Nothing was so terrible as
laying there bare bottomed as mother took the stout wooden paddle
by the handle, as she had regrettably done so many times before,
and waited a long time.  Mother always waited a very long time between
the lowering of the panties and the commencement of the spanking. 
This was the time that Linda thought about nothing but her behind
and the painful spanking she had earned, and frequently, as was the
case today, Linda's eyes would well up in tears of expectation,
embarrassment, and dreaded fear of the next five minutes.  Her
butt cheeks would clench and tighten involuntarily awaiting the first
hard whack of the paddle. But mother would wait until she had, with
great difficulty, relaxed the pale white pinkish cheeks of her behind
to accept her spanking.  Mother would wait until finally Linda, as was
expected and required, now crying and with a very small voice, asked
for her spanking.  Linda's request was almost a whisper:

    "P-p-please, m-m-mother, will you pl-please give give me the
ha-hard sp-span-nking that I deserve?"
    Mother was only too obliging to carry out her duty.   She patted
the bare, pale pinkish rear cheeks a few times, noting her daughter's
nervous and predictable reaction--that quick, desparate clenching of
the rear cheeks that no repeat spankee could avoid.  Linda was now
beyond herself in fear and dread.  IT was coming, she hated and dreaded
her impending punishment, and there was nothing short of her plaintive
begging that she could do.  And plead and beg she did even before the
awful beginning of the paddling.

    "Oh, please, please Mom, I'll never do it again; I'll be good, so
good, please don't spank . . ."

    TH-WHA-AACK!!   WHA-ACK!!    WHAACK!!!

    Linda's speech was cut off.  Mother had lifted the spanking
paddle off Linda's behind and raised it up above her head.  Then she
brought it down hard, very hard, whacking the bare bottom flesh solidly
across the center of Linda's raised butt.  A loud WHACK! and a piercing
shriek from the poor teenager resounded through the room nearly
simultaneously.  Again and again--slowly in fact-- mother forcefully
planted and applied the punishing paddle on the soft reddening rear
cheeks which stared at the ceiling.  Mother lifted the hard half-inch
thick spanking paddle high above her head and whacked it down as hard
as she could.  And that was plenty hard, unbearably painful for first
her daughter and then her niece.  The screeching and hollering commenced
in syncopated rhythm in tandem to the loud and unmistakable thwacks of
the paddle.  Linda's legs kicked straight out at each painful whack of
the wooden board, her feet flailed incoherently, sometimes turning her
feet straight up towards the ceiling and sometimes shooting them down
to pound the floor with the tips of her high heels which remained on
for the time being. 

    The neighbors were now alerted, as they had so many times before.
 The clear and unmistakable sounds of corporal punishment were clearly
audible to the adjacent houses.  There, other teenagers would smirk
between themselves, savoring the horrible fate of their attractive
teenaged neighbor, but this time, as they were soon to learn, two young
ladies got a lengthy--and from the sound of it--awfully painful session
with the paddle or hairbrush.  They joy was, however, tempered by the
possibility, however remote, that their mothers would "learn" from the
experience.  It was truly awful living next to a spanking mother. 
Once, just once, mother next door had looked out the window after
ten minutes and saw Linda standing in the corner with a bright red
blistered behind on display.  Half-kidding, that mother commented on
Linda's fate and said that this seemed to be a clear incentive for the
poor girl to obey.  Might not her young wards benefit from similar
treatment?  Her teenagers thought not, and hoped not. 
(Please, they hoped, mom wouldn't adopt the same method, would she?)

    TH-WHA-AACK!!   WHA-ACK!!  WHAACK!!!   TH-WHA-AACK!

    Mother kept count softly whispering the count to herself: 
"Eight, nine, ten, eleven..." Linda did not hear, bound up in the
excruciating pain and burning that was building up in her poor rear. 
Why, why had she consented to lighting up those cigarettes?  Her regret
was moot however; there was nothing that would stop the horrible
stinging and burning of the paddling she had to endure.  The only
thing she could do was obey, OBEY, in the future.  But, as it the
case with all young teenagers undergoing a lengthy spanking of this
sort, Linda tried to plead and promise to stop the spanking. 

    "Please, Mommy,  please, please", she pleaded, "stop, I can't
st-stand it.  IT HURTTS. PLEE-ASE. . ."

    Mother had strategy.  She skillfully applied the paddle again and
again to the center and then the bottom of Linda's soft and vulnerable
rear cheeks, up and down, oblivious to the increasingly loud and
emphatic cries of pain and suffering of her teenaged daughter. 
Mother's standard dose was at least forty whacks, but today she had
decided that both girls were going to endure four dozen strokes. 
Mother believed that only by slow application of the strokes of the
paddle was she able to cover the whole surface of the now crimson butt
cheeks of her daughter.  Once--and this was the blueprint (or redprint,
as it were) of the paddling she was giving to her daughter and would
soon repeat to her niece--Linda's rear was thoroughly spanked, would
Mother divert her attention and that of the paddle to the soft upper
thighs where she knew from experience generated the loudest and most
painful response.  Not only was the full spanking of the upper thighs
exceedingly painful, but the long term effects was to make this flesh
so incredibly sore that sitting in any fashion was made utterly
impossible for at least four, five, maybe six, days.  And this was
indeed her intention--Linda and Susan were not to be able to sit for
several days to constantly remind them of their punished status.  Yes,
it was this concentrated attention of the paddle to the upper thighs
that mother was convinced completed a good spanking.

    "Ye-ohw; oh, God, please, M-mommy, please, stop, IT HUUUURTSS.  
IT-T HUUUUUU-URR-TTTTS.  Please, I can't stand it.  I can't stand it. 
I can't st-stand it.  IT HUUU-UUURTSS."

    Linda's paddling continued.  She promised absolutely angelic
behavior, if just the spanking would stop; but stop it did not!

    WHACK!, TH-WHACK!, THWACK!, TH-THWACK! The burning was beyond
anything she could remember or bear.

    "I CAN'T STAND IT, PLEASE, PL-PLEASE, MOM, STOP, I'VE HAD ENOUGH;
OH, OH, YEEEEEE-EEEEE WOH!!  PLEASE I'LL NEV-NEVER DO IT AGAIN. God,
please, MOM-MMMMMY, IT HU-RRRRTS!"

    Linda reiterated this refrain again and again.  This was so
typical of the spanked teenager, Mother satisfyingly remembered.

    As Susan looked on in horror and expectation, she saw her poor
cousin get a spanking, a paddling, that she could not bear, but had to.
 She knew that she, too, would soon be poised across Aunt's lap and
scream and plead just like her cousin who kicked and bucked under the
burning and stinging of the hard wooden paddle, a spanking implement
that would oh so soon be used to discipline her as well.

    Unknown to Susan, her Aunt had decided that this time neither
Linda nor her cousin would be blistered.  Aunt knew that repeated hard
application of the paddle or the hairbrush to the upturned bare,
bucking behinds of her wards, would result in the horrible result of
white, hot, and wet blisters that would make sitting utterly impossible
for days to come.  This level of discipline made the event the wearing
of even loose panties an agonizing experience.  But she would reserve
this awful fate to some other occasion where the girls required truly
exemplary discipline.  Blisters would come on their subsequent paddlings
that was only a month away.  On that occasion, Mother had caught the
girls late at night returning from an after curfew clandestine
rendezvous with two boys.  The two were summarily informed of the
punishment which awaited them tomorrow.  The next afternoon, after a
nearly sleepless night, both girls had a hairbrushing that left
them with a crop of weeping blisters covering their lower rear cheeks
extending down to the crease that separated their behinds from the
thighs.  THAT was truly awful.  It had taken some time to produce
this result, but mother was convinced that this terribly painful
outcome was unfortunately necessary to assure that this kind of
dispictable behavior was never repeated.
. 

    * * *

    A pleasant interlude disrupted the proceeding between the finish
of Linda's paddling and the commencement of Susan's spanking.  The
phone rang and Mother had the opportunity to talk with a friend for
several minutes before turning her attention to Susan's first session
ever.  She took the opportunity to explain to her friend just what she
was doing at the moment, much to the increasing embarrassment of the
girls, especially Linda.

    "Well, yes I am busy at the moment, but I have a few moments to
talk Mona.  I really need the rest right now.  Mona, have you ever
caught one of your daughters smoking?  Well, I just came upon my
eighteen year old and her cousin Susan smoking up a storm in the
basement.  This is strictly forbidden and, well, the two are paying
the price right now.  What is that price?  Well, Mona, these two girls
are getting a good spanking, yes that's right a spanking!  Its
something I think you too should think about.

    "Linda has already been dealt with, and she is now standing in
the corner, but I'm afraid that her cousin Susan still has the paddle
to contend with.  Yes, you see that Susan is waiting for our
conversation to end and then she too will assume the position for
old-fashioned discipline that she has assured me has never happened before. 

    "I suspect that when both have been dealt with, I'm going to ask
them a few questions on their disobedience and their paddlings.  Yes,
Mona, they are very, very cooperative at this stage.  You see, if they
don't answer correctly and quickly, Linda knows, I'll just put them
over my knee for another ten or twelve hard whacks of the paddle on
their crimson and sore behinds.  I'll respank the behind of any girl
who hasn't learned her lesson well.  I, like my mother, make the poor
girls promise, and I mean promise, to explain to their friends tomorrow
just what happened to them.  Yes, I make them talk about their spankings;
it is embarrassing, but then getting a spanking is supposed to be both
painful and embarrassing to learn their lesson, isn't it Mona?  Also,
I make each clearly promise and convince me that they will ask for
another spanking of equal or increased intensity if they ever repeat
the offense of smoking.  They have to assure me that they will not
only ask for their spanking in this event, but they will lower their
pants and panties by themselves, and go fetch me the paddle.  It
 is awful, I can assure you Mona from my own experience as a teenager,
to waddle down the hallway with your pants and panties lowered to the
closet, retrieve the wooden spanking paddle and carry it back to the
bedroom for your punishment session.  That walk is slow and awkward,
holding and weighing the sturdy wooden paddle that will oh so soon be
used to turn your behind into a burning stinging mass of sore flesh.
My mother used to always lecture me while I stood in front of her
with my pants down, wringing my hands in front of my, well privates. 
Only after she had reduced me to tears was I excused to go get the
paddle, or sometimes, the hairbrush.  I hated it, and I suspect
my dear Linda hates it too.

    "Mona, if you really wish, you can come over and see the results.
 The door is open downstairs and you are welcome to come right in. 
Yes, please bring you daughter, if you wish.  I actually think that the
additional humiliation will be good for the girls. (This elicited a
loud protest from blubbering Linda, but it really didn't matter.)

    "Well, I do have to go back to it, Mona.  Susan is waiting her
turn, and there is no reason to wait any longer.  Yes, we'll talk
later, when both girls are in their rooms ruminating on the events of
the day.  What?  Well, yes, I think I am going to have Susan call my
sister and tell her what has happened.  I think telling her about her
session with the paddle will add to her punishment and, if I am at all
right, perhaps convince her mother to initiate similar discipline in
her household when she goes back home this fall.  Goodbye Mona."

    It was Susan's time.  She had watched in horror as her older
cousin kicked, shrieked, begged, and promised under the influence of
the paddle that turned her rear and thighs to sore, crimson patchs of
freshly spanked flesh.  Any hopes of stoically taking the paddling
had long since left the poor girl.  She saw Linda kick and buck under
the influence of the wooden paddle and she knew that she too would act
likewise.  And, Linda was still blubbering and wailing in the corner,
some ten minutes after the end of her spanking!  Did the pain ever stop?

    The instructions were clear, anticipated, and awful to comply
with:

    "Susan, you have seen you cousin prepare for her spanking and I
expect you to do the same.  Young lady, reach under your skirt, pull
your panties down to your knees, lift your skirt up in back, and drape
yourself over my knee!"

    Waddling over to Aunt's knee with her dress raised in back and
her panties lowered, as ordered, Susan made her way to Aunt's punitive
knee.  Flopping down over Aunt's lap, draping herself in the
old-fashioned punishment position, Susan was about to get hers.  She
had never had to face this position, and now she was in position,
position for a hard spanking, bare bottomed, exposed to the paddle,
that same paddle that had reduced her cousin into a blubbering freshly
spanked teenager.

    Susan, uninitiated to these events and not knowing the etiquette,
broke all the rules by stopping and starting to plead and beg before
she had even had the courtesy of asking for her punishment.  Aunt was
somewhat upset by these events and was somewhat tempted to make Susan's
session much worse than her daughter's, but she was understanding,
knowing the poor girl's predicament.  She sharply ordered her niece
over her lap, insisting that she obey.  Aunt knew that there was plenty
of time to beg once the spanking had begun, but she was not about to
allow this disobedient teenager to disrupt the normal course of
discipline in her household. 

    "Now, young lady, you've heard your cousin ask for her paddling
and I certainly expect that you will do the same.  Do I make myself
clear?"

    At this, Aunt firmly patted the hard wooden surface of the
punishment paddle on Susan's bare upturned rear cheeks.  Susan had, HAD
to ask for her first spanking!

    "Oh, please, please Aunt Alice, I can't, I can't. . .

    TH-THER-WHACK.  SPLAT! WH-WHACK.

    These three horribly painful whacks of the paddle were used to
convince Susan to ask the question she had been requested to utter.  It
hurt so bad, but Susan had no choice.

    Already sobbing, Susan the initiate asked:

    "Pl-please Aunt Alice, gi-give me the sp-spanking I need."

    Aunt, of course, accommodates.  She was convinced that she needed
to make this initial session with a spanking paddle a memorable one for
her young niece.  Indeed it was.  Within just the first fifteen hard
swats she applied to Susan's uplifted and churning bare rear cheeks, the
poor newly spanked young lady pleaded and begged.  Susan blurted out the
words all first time spankees shouted:

    "I HUUUUU-RRRRTS. PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT. GOD, I CAN--NN'T STAND
IT. I NEVER TH-THOUGHT ANY THING COULD HURT LIKE THIS!! IT HURRRRT-TS. 
IT HUR-RRTS."

    Susan repeated these sentences again and again, assuring Aunt
that nothing could hurt like the paddle.  Aunt made a mental note to
make sure that this message was repeated to Susan's frustrated mother. 
Susan was sure to return to her home with her mother alerted to the
horrible pain, embarrassment, and trepidation of bare behind spanking. 
Perhaps Susan's mother would finally learn that lengthy and painful
spanking was the only form of discipline that worked on teenaged young
ladies.  Aunt believed so and she raised and whacked and raised and
whacked, and raised the paddle and whacked it with all her strength
on those two increasingly crimson hillocks that faced the ceiling. 

    Susan's spanking continued and continued; Aunt was convinced that
only with an exceptional paddling, perhaps a bit more severe than that
her own daughter had had to accept, would Susan truly learn the
consequence of disobedience.  And, indeed, did Susan learn.  God, she
wished this spanking would end and never, never would she ever have to
take another.

    Her aunt continued to use the hard wooden surface of the paddle
again and again to Susan's upturned and increasingly crimson rear
cheeks.  THIS young lady certainly could plead, beg, and promise
excellent behavior.  The experience with corporal punishment convinced
poor Susan that she would never, NEVER, NEV-NEVER smoke again, or indeed,
disobey Aunt in any way:

    PL-PL-EEEESE.  AUNT ALICE!!  I can't stand it.  OH GOD,
PL-EASEEEE it HURR-RTS. PLEASE I'LL BE GOOOOOOD.  I'LL NEVER SMOKE
AGAIN, PLEA---SE, PLEASE.  OH-OUHHHHHCH! YEEE-OUCHHHHHH.  GOD,
PLEASE........"

    Aunt continued to perform her duty, applying the paddle again and
again over and over the utterly crimson rear flesh of her niece.  She
counted: "Thirty-eight, thirty-nine. . ."  And on and on.  Soon Susan
met that absolute and unbearable wall of pain, the ten whacks over
which she could not stand.  NOW Susan finally "learned" the consequence
of her disobedience.

    Susan's eventual trip to the corner, as embarrassing as that was,
was a relief to the poor teenager who had never had a spanking before. 
THIS was truly a learning experience for the young lady, a learning
experience that her mother would learn is totally appropriate for HER
teenager as she later assumed the position for Mom's awful hairbrush.

    Aunt later made her make a phone call to her mother to explain
her actions and the consequences she learned at Aunt's knee.  Yes, with
her panties still down and sporting a blazing, crimson freshly spanked
rear, Aunt made her talk to her mother, all the time patting the hard
wooden surface of the paddle on her niece's rear, making her recant
her bad behavior and her version of Aunt's mode of corporal punishment.

    Hiccuping, barely able to speak, poor Susan slowly told her
mother of the events of the afternoon.  Susan recounted the cigarettes,
of being caught, and of the subsequent march upstairs.  She told her
mother, hesitatingly, of the stop at the closet and Aunt fetching
that awful wooden paddle, and, and, seeing Linda her older cousin
getting it--getting a lengthy sp, spanking with the paddle on her
BARE behind. . . JUST LIKE I JUST GOT.  OH, MOMMY, IT HURT, IT HUUUUURT!

    At the other end of the line, Susan's mother gleamed.  She, too,
remembered the sessions with the hairbrush from her mother--just as her
sister remembered.  God, it did hurt, and all her friends knew that she
got it.  Susan's mother remembered standing in the corner afterwards and the
inability to sit for days afterwards.  THIS was an effective method; it
worked on her and her sister; it worked on her niece.  Perhaps, this
was exactly what Susan did need on a regular basis (or threat of it on a
regular basis) to obey.  Yes, poor seventeen year old Susan had finally
been introduced to this horrible method.  Maybe, thought her mother, I do
need to continue corporal punishment for Susan's correction when she got home.  Yes,
indeed.  Despite her age, Susan would spend many days unable to sit,
sore and blistered, standing in the corner.  Perhaps mother would have
to use this form of discipline for the next two or three years?    Such was the
result of a visit to her Aunt's.