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  1. lydia2


    I stood in front of the desk, awaiting her verdict, nervously. She spoke. “Because this is your first time, I shall to let you off with a warning” A wave of relief. “Now bend over the desk, please.” Gulp. “But Miss… you just said you were going to let me off with a warning???” “Yes, dear.” She picked something up. “This is the Warning Cane. Bend over.” Heart sinking, I did. Taptaptap. Swish. Thwack. Oww. Tap. Swish. Whap. Oh, oh, ouch. Taptap. Swish. Whack. Ohhhhh gosh. “Stand up” It hurt to stand. “This will be your only warning. Next time it will be: six smacks, with the Naughty Girls’ Cane, on your bare bottom. Do you understand?” Sniffle. “Yes, Miss.” “You may go.”
  2. She annoyed me, that shop girl. They sometimes do. Didn’t seem to be paying attention. And I have a short fuse. I know. I explode with anger and then regret it. And this was going to be another one of those times. I could feel it coming. And then there were tiny, faint bells, glingleglingle, and I was somewhere else entirely. A cloudlet of dry white mist danced round my feet. But the floor was solid enough. There was a large ornate desk and a smiling white-clad lady behind it. She spoke. “Ah, Dorothy. Welcome. You may be a little confused. Don’t worry.” Behind her shoulders I caught a glimpse of tiny wings. Not big enough to fly with, certainly. Must be some joke shop thing. But where was I and who was she and why was I suddenly not where I had been? I looked for words to ask these questions, but she answered before I found the words. “We’ve taken you out of time for a while. A time-out, if you like. I don’t suppose you believe in fairy godmothers? “No, of course not” I spluttered. “Good. We’re not them. Don’t worry who we are.” From the desk she picked up a short wand. Like the wings. Joke-shop tat. A little bell on one end and a glittery star on the other, a few flakes of glitter even falling off as she picked it up. What nonsense was this? She waved the wand off-handedly and the bell gave a tuneless tinkle. And then immediately I was in a different room. Still a little mist swirling around my feet. A different desk; a different lady, a little older; black dress but same joke-shop wings. What IS this? “Ah, Dorothy” she spoke. “In the world you just stepped out of, you’re about to be very nasty to that poor girl, and that won’t help either of you, will it? In fact, it will make both your days worse than they need be, hmmmm?” I was lost for words. She was right, of course. But could I help it? And who was she and how did she know? She continued. “When you go back you will still have the choice what to do. We deal with consequences, not choices. You don’t believe in fairy godmothers, do you?” The same question the previous lady had asked. The same answer. “No, of course not.” “Good” she said. “We’re not them. We may or may not exist. You may or may not believe in us. Think of me as …. your fairy spankmother, if that helps.” “My … what?” “This is what you deserve if you’re nasty to that poor girl, as you plan to be”. She picked up another joke-shop tat wand, identical to the other, and waved it. A tinny single bell sounded. And I was facing carpet. Over her knee. Skirt up and knickers down. I hadn’t moved, and yet I was there. A firm smack landed on the left side of my bottom, followed by a twin smack on the right. Then the spanks rained down, without pause, fast and hard and building to glowing soreness. I wriggled. She held my waist and smacked and smacked, relentlessly. Tears spurted. Mine. Wriggling, kicking, but nothing could alleviate the fire consuming my bottom. Until suddenly I was standing again, in front of the desk, and she behind it, with the silly wand and the silly wings. She spoke again. “Now, Dorothy, you are going back to the place and time we took you from. If you do as you were going to, you will have deserved the spanking I just gave you, will you not?” This was absurd. “But” I stammered “what if I don’t?” “Ah” she almost smiled. “The paradoxes of time and choice. Do we exist? Did this happen?” She waved the joke-shop wand and there I was, back in the shop. Nothing had changed. I took a breath, ready to vent my exasperation at the girl. And then I became aware. A millisecond ago, my bottom wasn’t sore. Now it is. Very. I shivered. The world spun. I forced a smile where the angry voice would have been. A “sorry; let me try to help” in place of the anger. And struggled through it, and home as quickly as I could, still not quite knowing what had happened. Drop the shopping. Quickly to a mirror. Skirt up, tights and knicks down; what’s real? Red or white? Red. And sore. Every sign of a spanked bottom. But did it really happen? Briefly and faintly, the word ‘yes’ appeared in the mirror, then faded. Or did I imagine that also? A good spanking, by somebody who couldn’t possibly exist, for something I didn’t actually do, but something I would have done if I hadn’t been spanked for doing it, which I didn’t. Fairy godmothers. How silly. Ouch. Ouch.
  3. The spankee-elect shall declare the following: I [name] take and accept you [name] henceforth as my Spanker. I place my trust in you to administer fairly and calmly such spankings as I may be in need of. I promise to accept without complaint or protest your decision on all matters pertaining to the spankings due to me. I promise to take these spankings as bravely I can, knowing that you have my best interests at heart I further promise to admit to any naughtiness I may commit when you are not present, and to accept your discipline for any such naughtiness I promise these things and place my trust in you The Spanker-elect shall declare the following: I [name] take and accept you [name] henceforth as my spankee. I vow and promise to be fair and just to you at all times. I vow and promise never to spank in anger, hate or revenge, but only in a calm and supportive spirit and only when you deserve. I promise to care for you at all times, knowing that spanking is an act of care. I promise not to bully or manipulate, but to use my authority as your Spanker only for your good. I promise all these things and you may trust me. The Celebrant shall then say: Forasmuch as [name] and [name] have exchanged these vows in the presence of this Congregation, and intend to keep them, I declare that they now stand in the formal relationship of Spanker and spankee, long to remain so. The Celebrant shall then conduct the Spanker and spankee into some private place where they shall sign the Register. The Register having been signed, the Celebrant shall withdraw and join the Congregation. In the private place, the Spanker shall spank the spankee as a commemoration of their new status, within earshot of the Congregation. The spanking being over, and the spankee having resumed her/his clothing, the Spanker shall bestow flowers upon his/her spankee and together they shall process to the reception, amid the general joy of the Congreation.
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