First Birthday Spanking – 4

By Jonathan Quincy Graves

{ Note: This is the fourth part of a series. Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3}

Part 4

Vera Kennedy and Marge Petersen left Vickie and Bill Miller’s house through the back door.  A well-established forty-seven years old to Marge’s youthful thirty-five, Vera could have been mistaken for Marge’s stern aunt instead of the across-the-alley neighbor and friend she actually was.  The manner in which Vera held Marge’s upper arm as she led her along behind the rows of houses might have contributed to this misperception.

They had just left a somewhat unusual birthday celebration, at which the birthday girl, Vickie, did not receive the traditional birthday spanking, but her husband did.  Three women spanked and paddled Bill, with Vickie yet to have her turn.  Vera led off the series of spankings because of her extensive experience, and she derived considerable satisfaction from a job well done.

Vera served as disciplinarian for her household, raising two sons and taking her husband, John, to task when necessary.  She most often felt satisfaction when dealing with John all those years until his fatal accident at the construction site.  John was not a bad man, but he, like all men, would occasionally step out of line.  Vera was most conscientious about her responsibility as John’s spouse to bring him back into line, and used long hard applications of her paddle or strap to his bare backside to do so.  It had been some time since Vera exercised her paddle on a deserving male backside, and she was gratified to learn she had not lost her touch.  She hoped she had gotten Vickie off to a good, albeit a late start, with her Bill.

Marge experienced emotions of a different sort.  Although married and now divorced, her experiences with men were limited.  Her former husband, Jim, was a philandering little shit, but the idea of bringing discipline into his life would have never occurred to Marge.  She was raised with the notion that a good wife supported, cared for, and submitted to her husband.  That mix contained no element that even hinted at a good wife taking assertive steps to ensure her marriage lasted with a good husband—even after the vows were taken.  And spanking?  This afternoon’s activities opened a whole new world to her.  Jim never spanked her, not that she ever gave him the slightest reason to, and she never thought of spanking him, even though the reasons to do so were innumerable.

To say Marge was floating as Vera led her down the alley would not have been quite accurate, but it also would not have been far from the truth.  Her senses were not fully conscious of her surroundings; she was still enmeshed in the flood of emotions she experienced witnessing and contributing to the spanking of Vickie’s husband.  She’d never thought much about spanking until today—adult spanking never occurred to her—but in the past couple of hours she discovered adult spanking to be quite intriguing.  Hell, she loved it.  She loved everything about it.  She loved the tension in preparing the person to be spanked; loved watching a woman spank a man—how his white buns turned from pale pink to red, how they bounced, clenched and changed color with each spank, how his legs began to flutter and kick, how his distress manifest in groans, cries and pleas for relief.  Most of all, she loved all of those male reactions (plus the pressure of his excited member against her thighs) as she did the spanking.  The whole idea excited her; even the idea of being on the receiving end of a spanking excited her, though it also frightened her when she considered the embarrassment and discomfort visited upon poor Bill today.

“Where are you going?” Vera asked, snapping Marge out of her reverie.  They reached the back gate to Marge’s property, and she was about to walk right past it.  “Get hold of yourself, girl.  Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough for one afternoon?”

Marge’s cheeks blushed pink, imagining Vera somehow knew her thoughts.  “I can’t imagine what you mean,” she responded, turning back, opening her gate and proceeding up the path to her back door.

“You know very well what I mean, young lady, after the show you and that young man put on this afternoon.  Yes, I think you know exactly what I mean, and you are right to blush, in consideration of your naughty display.”

“Really, Vera,” Marge said, filling the teapot and keeping her back to the neighbor who sat at the kitchen table, “I did nothing more than you and Kathy.  All I did is apply a little corporal discipline to the bottom of Vickie’s naughty husband.”

“Oh, is that all you did?” Vera laughed.  “Well, it sure appeared as though you did a lot more.  I didn’t notice Kathy, for example, encouraging Bill’s sexual arousal, nor did I observe her reaching orgasm while spanking her younger brother.”

“I never…” Marge started to deny, turning to Vera, her cheeks aflame.

“Now, now, you’ve been naughty enough already today. Don’t add perjury to your list of misdeeds.  You saw what being naughty led to for that young man.  It is not unknown for naughty boys, and naughty girls too, to be taken across an available knee when they are caught lying.”

“I’m sorry,” Marge said. “I didn’t mean to get so caught up in the moment.  It was just so exciting.  I’ve never felt anything like it before.  Weren’t you excited to have a naked man over your knee for a spanking?”

“Not the way you were, no.  Bill has been pressing the limits with his wife for some time, and I was happy to help her reestablish the boundaries she should have enforced all along.  Naughty behavior should never go unpunished, regardless of how old the miscreant might be.

“Which brings us back to your behavior,” Vera continued, scooting her kitchen chair back away from the table, “why don’t you step over here young lady, and let’s explore your newfound fascination with spanking a little further. It’s not just naughty boys, but naughty girls get spanked as well.”

Marge found herself flooded with powerful and conflicting emotions.  On the one hand, the idea of spanking intrigued her; on the other, she was more than a little frightened by the prospect of submitting to her older neighbor, especially after witnessing how effective a spanker she could be.  Still, the draw was irresistible, and somewhat hesitantly, she approached Vera’s waiting lap.

When within reach, Vera took Marge by the arm, pulled her over her lap, and began to apply moderate spanks with her hand to Marge’s petite bottom, still clad in her tight-fitting jeans.

As she applied the opening salvo to the delightful derriere of her younger neighbor, Vera quite enjoyed herself.  She thought that might be the case earlier when she watched Marge’s reactions during Bill’s punishment.  When Vera raised her sons to be good men—or corrected her John when he did not live up to her standards—she paddled them out of a sense of responsibility, and her reward was the satisfaction of doing a necessary job well.  This was different—so much more fun.

Marge responded with an initial “Oh,” when Vera delivered the first swat, and she squirmed a little as the heat built, but otherwise lay silent.  She was still a little uncertain—the moment a little intense—but it seemed she liked this spanking stuff, even from the receiving end.

Vera proceeded at a steady, moderate intensity, to warm the bountiful cheeks of her lovely neighbor.  She did not want to inflict significant punishment at this stage.  She found herself marveling at the shape and resiliency of the female bottom, so very different from the skinny cheeks of her John.  After about two dozen spanks, she stopped to rub and knead the delightful cheeks prominent over her lap.

“Are you getting the message, young lady?”

“Yes, Vera.”

“Then we should proceed with a proper spanking.”

“But… um, what do you mean?”

“Well, honestly, my dear, you don’t imagine a proper spanking can be given to a fully clothed bottom, do you?  These jeans will not do.  Get up; go freshen up and change into that cute little yellow sundress you wear while I sit here and enjoy my tea.  Then we can resume this lesson in deportment.  And have a care, my dear; I don’t want to see you back here wearing undergarments inappropriate for a young lady about to be chastised.”

Marge left the kitchen, rubbing her bottom with her hand as soon as she stepped out of sight in the hallway.  When she got to her bedroom, she could not wait to get her jeans and panties off so she could inspect her backside in the full-length mirror.  She was disappointed to see that while she was a little more pink than usual, it didn’t amount to much.  There wasn’t any pain to speak of either; it just felt like the nerve endings back there had been awakened, not distressed.

With Vera’s words in mind—especially the phrase, “naughty girls get spanked”—and not wanting to delay to the point Vera came looking for her, Marge dug through her drawer for a clean pair of plain cotton panties and matching bra.  Then she pulled her little yellow sundress from the closet.  She hadn’t worn those panties in quite a while, preferring something more feminine, but she enjoyed wearing the dress.  With its form-fitting bodice and short but full skirt, it was not only sexy in an innocent way, but it also made her look at least ten years younger.  With ankle-length white socks and light-yellow platforms, her outfit was complete, and she headed back to the kitchen and her waiting neighbor.

Vera sipped her tea and read the day’s newspaper until Marge returned.  In truth, she absorbed little of what she read; her mind occupied with the delightful activities of the day, both past and yet to come.  Putting down the paper, Vera turned to Marge.  “So, how does it look so far?”

“How does what look?”

“Oh, come now.  I’m certain you inspected your backside as soon as you could get your pants down.  How does your bottom compare to young Bill Miller’s once I finished with him?”

Marge blushed.  Something she had been doing a lot of this day.  “It doesn’t look much different from normal.”

“That’s the difference between spanking a bare bottom, as it should be spanked, and giving little pity-pats to one still clothed.  I think we both agree you are due the real thing after your behavior at the Miller’s, so let’s get started.  Kick off your shoes and come back over here to my right side,” Vera said, scooting her chair back out away from the table.

Marge stepped to the position indicated.  Her lower regions tightened, and for some strange reason, her nipples grew unusually tender, as if they too were excited about the coming chastisement.

Vera helped Marge ease back over her lap.  She was gentler this time than she had been when she first pulled the jeans-clad young lady over her knees.  She looked forward to spanking this delightful woman and did not want to rush it.  Her left hand slid over the small of Marge’s lower back and down to her hip. Vera used her right to smooth the back of her dress down over the contours of her bottom.

“Just so we are clear, you do know what has led you to be in this position this afternoon, don’t you?”

“Yes, Vera,” Marge responded, a bit of a squeak in her voice.

“Tell me.”

“I was naughty at Vickie’s.”

“And how were you naughty?”

“I got carried away when I spanked Bill.”

“An understatement, I would say.  It is clear discipline is needed, and in my care, naughty girls get spanked.  You will soon learn to be more forthcoming with me.”

Vera used both hands to lift and fold back the hem of Marge’s little yellow dress, exposing her white cotton panties.  She smiled to see that Marge followed her instructions regarding the undergarments—a sure sign the girl lay under her influence.  She patted those panties, and the well positioned mounds beneath them a few times, then raised her hand a little higher and delivered two rapid, moderate spanks to each one.

Marge took in a quick breath and wriggled her hips a little, but otherwise remained quiet.  She realized her jeans, no matter how tight, had provided considerable protection.

Vera paused to stroke and squeeze Marge’s charming bottom through her panties.  “You were a very naughty girl today,” she scolded, “and naughty girls deserve to have their bottoms warmed.”  With those words, Vera stopped her caressing, and resumed spanking.  She applied more technique than she had earlier in order to impart a moderate sting to the offered mounds.  She used plenty of wrist action and varied her timing and location to cover all areas unpredictably.

Before long, Marge’s little white-stockinged feet began to flutter, and an occasional yelp escaped her lips.  Vera smiled at these initial reactions and increased the intensity a little more.  Her goal was to ensure a nice, uniform pink before she proceeded to the next stage and lowered Marge’s demure cotton panties.

After two or three minutes, Vera reached full intensity, albeit with just her hand, and Marge exhibited all the symptoms of a naughty little girl suffering well-deserved corporal punishment.

Again, Vera stroked and caressed Marge’s panty clad bottom.  “Now aren’t you ashamed of yourself, over my knee for a spanking?  Your bare bottom displayed like a naughty girl over Aunty Vera’s knee?  You realize, I trust, this spanking won’t really begin until that naughty bottom of yours is bare.”

“No, Vera, please don’t,” Marge pleaded as Vera’s fingers grasped the waist band of her panties.

“I’m afraid this is necessary, my dear.  Naughty girls get spanked properly with their bottoms bared over my knee.  Now raise up, and why don’t you call me ‘Aunty Vera’ while you’re being punished.”

“Yes, Aunty Vera,” Marge said with a sob, as she raised her hips a little to help with her disrobing.  “But please don’t spank so hard.”

“Don’t be silly,” Vera replied as she slid Marge’s panties down past her knees to her ankles. “We haven’t begun your real spanking yet.  That was just a warm-up to set the proper mood.”  While she spoke, she admired the soft but pink glow she’d already imparted to the pert little bottom displayed across her lap—so feminine and so warm to the touch.  Oh yes, this was much more fun than spanking her John.

Unable to deny herself further, Vera resumed spanking those bounding, squirming mounds; the impact and sound of firm hand against bare skin enhancing the charm.  She was at full intensity from the start, and Marge’s reactions were much more pronounced, kicking, squealing, and pleading with her “Aunty Vera” to please stop.  Vera just smiled, tightened her hold about Marge’s waist, and continued to spank.

END of Part 4

Copyright © 2005 by Jonathan Quincy Graves. All right reserved.  Please do not repost or use for any commercial purpose without written approval from the author.

Revised July 2022.

The story continues with  Part 5.

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