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Party-TOO-Hearty Coed
Gets The
Spanking-Hot Education
She Needs & Deserves
From Her Old-Fashioned
Aunt!
Dear Barbara & Michael... My first year at college was a fiasco until
one day that I can honestly say changed my life. I'm a reasonably successful businesswoman
today, but I may not have been if it wasn't for an old-fashioned, eye-opening spanking my
aunt administered to my undisciplined derriere!
Coming from a suburban area of Washington State, my parents insisted I
attend parochial grammar & high schools. "Better education," they said, which
was true, but it wasn't much fun, either. Neither of the schools used physical punishment,
mind you, but they did have strict standards for dress, deportment, grooming, & so on.
Transgressions resulted in detentions, informing your parents (with implications that a
spanking might be the best remedy!) & extra assignments.
The result was that when the time came to choose a college, I focused on
one sufficiently distant & appealing to make up for lost time. Which is exactly what I
did. My grades, all A's, allowed me to pick & enter UCLA. My parents weren't all that
happy with it, but UCLA is a good school & they decided that at 18, it was time for me
to get out on my own & grow up.
As I suspected, being on my own was fantastic! I moved into a dorm, had a
room-mate, who could've been my sister our backgrounds were so similar, & began my
college career with abandon.
There were parties on our floor, in the dorm, on-campus, or off-campus
almost every night. At first, we remained studious & studied during the week, only
attending weekend festivities, but after about a month, we'd treat our hard-studying
selves to a mid-week party or two.
By the end of the first semester, I had found a surfer boyfriend
&
pretty much gotten the lay of the land. My courses were easy. The professors didn't care
about attendance. I figured going to class was pointless except when exams or assignments
were due, so my boyfriend & I, along with my room-mate & her surfer boyfriend, spent
our days at the beach & our nights partying. I was enjoying every moment of my new-found
freedom!
Of course, my parents had no idea what was going on. I aced all my tests,
papers, & assignments. My grades did drop to B's--- the nasty professors did care enough
about attendance to knock me down a grade since I never attended their boring lectures!
---but my parents figured I was just adjusting to college pressure. I didn't correct them.
Everything was going smoothly until my aunt called the dorm one night
when I was out partying. There weren't phones in the rooms, only pay phones out in the
halls, & a prissy girl I didn't much care for answered. She didn't say much to my aunt,
but she mentioned "partying as usual" in such a way that Aunt Ellen got
suspicious. Suspicious enough to call back several times over the next few days
&
discover I was always out somewhere.
Aunt Ellen didn't say anything to my parents. She's a fantastic lady
&
has always been more of a friend & big sister to me than a relative. She's successful,
confident & very shrewd, which is why she decided to find out exactly what I was up to
although she already had a pretty good idea.
It only took a call to my staff advisor, who referred her to two
professors, to get all the incriminating information. She mentioned their saying,
"wasting her college experience, squandered potential" & some other scholarly
portents of doom when she arrived, unexpectedly, at my dorm door about two weeks later,
just as I was leaving for the beach.
To make a long story short, she gave me more than enough rope to hang
myself - swearing I was knuckling down, studying away, burning the midnight oil,
& all
that - before she laid out the facts she'd accumulated.
What could I say? Even then, I wasn't insane enough to try to deny them.
By the way, Aunt Ellen's a lawyer, real-estate, so spinning yarns has never been easy with
her.
Aunt Ellen then proceeded to explain, in a sisterly way, why my education
was so important, what I was wasting, why I should attend classes, etc. During her talk,
she asked me questions, patiently listened to my feeble excuses, & finally announced
that I was acting very immaturely & she understood why. It was hard for a previously
sheltered girl like me to resist the exciting temptations all around me.
As I sat across from her, still in the one piece bathing suit
& robe I
was planning to wear to the beach, I nodded my head at the comforting understanding my
aunt seemed to convey. For a minute, I thought I'd gotten away with it, would have to
promise to do better, maybe attend classes twice a week, & that would be it. I knew
she'd never tell my parents if I played along.
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Fiction is
fine,
letters are dandy,
& photos &
art are eye candy.
Butt,
sometimes, you've just gotta
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Grown
WOMEN
AND men
DO blush,
beg, sniffle &, sometimes, bawl like
bad little kids
when they're scolded, stripped &
oh-sooo SOUNDLY SPANKED
by a diehard devotee of
THE single-most
sensational
acts of D/s ever invented by man or woman kind! |
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SEE for yourself
in one of Scarlett Hill Studio's real spanker, real raw reaction
sought
& required psychodramas
&
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I still swear she read my mind! Her last sentence summed up my thoughts
as if I'd said them out loud. And since she'd phrased it as a question, I could only look
at her with my mouth open, shocked, & unable to fib my way out of it.
Aunt Ellen just nodded, said "drastic measures" were called
for, & explained she'd be calling my advisor & professors weekly from now on. Then she
said that wasn't all. I needed something more immediate to cure my immature recklessness
& she was going to give it to me right here & now.
I looked at her in confusion. I really didn't know what she meant. She
let the moment hang for emphasis, & then she looked me square in the eye & said,
"I'm afraid you very much need a good, sound spanking, Donna. And you are going to
get one."
If I was shocked before, I was numb now. She had to be kidding! I told
her so, & then some: "no right, too old, not my mother, etc." I remember the
expression on her face. It was firm & angry, but also sad, & stayed exactly the same
throughout my protests & eventual chastisement.
After I finished rattling off everything I could think of, Aunt Ellen
simply said, "I love you, Donna. I am not going to sit by while you make a mistake
you'll regret for the rest of your life. I don't want to tell your parents, but I will if
need be. I also know that this discussion alone will not suffice to curb your immature
behavior. You are going to be spanked so you'll remember this discussion for more than
five minutes after I leave. And that's all that there is to it."
Aunt Ellen wasn't trying to trap me, really, but she sure did. My parents
were paying for my college education, not vacation. They'd scrimped & saved all these
years for my education. They'd be crushed if they found out what I'd been up to. So would
I, I realized. I could never look them in the eye again.
Aunt Ellen let me think it out before getting up to turn one of the two
desk chairs around to face the room. She sat down, that same expression of angry sadness
on her face, & said something like, "let's get this over with, Donna. Come
here."
The enormity of what was about to happen was overwhelming. There was no
way out, so, almost as if I was sleepwalking I stood & took a step towards where my aunt
sat waiting. The rooms were small & the chair sat almost at the foot of the bed. When I
stopped in front of her, confused as to what to do next, Aunt Ellen said "you're
going to get your bare bottom spanked, Donna. Take off your robe & suit."
I hardly protested. What was the point? I made some noises
& blushed to
the roots of my hair as I tossed the robe aside & peeled down to my birthday suit,
feeling utterly humiliated & miserable. I also felt guilty as sin & stared at the
floor.
Aunt Ellen reached out & directed me to her right side
& then over
her knee. I've read since how one tends to feel cool breezes like never before when
positioned bottom up, & believe me, that's true.
The spanking that followed was horrible. Aunt Ellen's hand felt like
cement as it rose & fell, over & over, covering every inch of my backside time &
time again.
She decided to teach me a lesson, & she did. From the first, stinging
crack of her hand, I reverted to a naughty ten year old, kicking, crying, pleading,
&
promising sainthood. Her first spank landed square on the summit of my right cheek
&
stung like blazes. Her second followed quickly, right on the same spot & the sting was
twofold. The same with the third, fourth, & fifth. All as hard as she could & in the
same, sore spot. I remember pleading with her to "spank somewhere else" because
I thought it'd be better than that one burning spot over & over again.
Of course, she did spank somewhere else but always in the same cadence.
Five hard, stinging slaps would inflame one cauldron-hot spot before moving to ignite
another the same way. By the time she'd delivered 25 spanks to five burning areas, I was
sobbing my eyes out. She started on the right summit, then the left summit, then the
tender lower swell of my right cheek, then left, then five scorchers across the crevice
& both cheeks.
Aunt Ellen isn't much bigger than me, but somehow she managed to keep me
off balance enough where I couldn't get off her knee. And believe me, I was trying as hard
as I could to do just that! She had pinned my wrist when the first spank demanded I reach
back to protect myself, so there wasn't much else I could do but sob & be spanked!
And I was! Aunt Ellen didn't stop at 25. Or 50. Or 75. I don't know how
many times she slapped my burning buttocks, but I do know it was enough to turn them
crimson & then some. Long before she stopped, I had lost all ability to count or think
anything except that I was being soundly spanked & I wanted it to stop.
It did finally, but by that time, I was a mess. I'd cried a river of
tears, my nose was running, I was near exhausted from kicking & sobbing, & I'd decided
I'd do anything, ANYTHING to avoid a repeat of that ordeal.
I did go to class every day after that spanking. My grades went back up
to A's. My parents congratulated themselves on being right about the pressure during my
first semester & happily attended when I graduated with honors. They never knew about
Aunt Ellen spanking me, checking up on me for a while, & assuring me she could & would
administer an even more severe spanking if I didn't shape up!
Aunt Ellen? She's still my big sister & best friend. She's been a big
help in my career. The day she spanked me & since. She doesn't know what that spanking
did to me. And, no, she never had to spank me again. But, yes, I have fantasized about her
doing so more times than I can remember.
Maybe I'll get up the nerve to tell her someday or see if she'd still
think of spanking me again on her own? I'd like that, but only if Aunt Ellen
isn't quite
as angry & determined to teach me a lesson as she was that first time. My bottom
clenches
just remembering that one! -- Donna, WA
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