Historical C.P. Saga by
(Chapters 2 & 3 available in
E-Mag issues 2 & 3, respectively)
Claire lived on the third floor of Mrs. Lynnes boarding
house in a small dormer room with sloping attic-like walls & plain homely furnishings.
Late on a fall afternoon her room was empty & silent. An overcast sky filled the room
with pearl-gray hues. Footsteps, then the voice of Mrs. Lynne broke the silence. The
bedroom door swung open. Mrs. Lynne came in leading Claire, a tall slender girl with long
dark hair & large brown eyes, by her arm.
Mrs. Lynne was clearly upset with the girl. She fought to regain
her self-composure. Words were exchanged. Claire tried to explain, but the older woman
wasnt having any of her erudite reasons for breaking house rules. The girl would sit
in her room & wait until she came back before dinner to give her what she had coming.
A new girl was checking in this afternoon. Shed see to her & dinner, then
shed be back. As she left, it occurred to her that she did have a few moments before
the new girl was due. She returned to the bed.
"Come here. And not another word out of you!"
Claires mouth bloomed into a pout as she came to her
landlady. The older woman was not at all embarrassed to lift her long skirt & pull
down her drawers to expose slender rounded buttocks. In one efficient motion she swept the
nineteen year old over her ample thighs & began to spank her flanks with the open cup
of her palm. The smacks landed sharply on her jiggling buttocks, turning them a hot bright
pink. Mrs. Lynnes arm settled into a staccato rhythm that echoed through the closed
door & down the stairs where her young maid stood anxiously listening, her thighs
growing more tender by the moment.
Meanwhile in the street below, autumn gusts as stiff as new brooms
swept the sidewalks clean. Crisp brightly colored leaves swirled & skittered across
the cobblestones. Pale slender shafts of gray light slanted between the tenements creating
an interplay of light & long shadows that accented the boarding houses intricate
Queen Anne carpentry, the grand sweep of the porch, & rows of spotless brick-arched
An eighteen year old girl stood on the front steps. She was
dressed plainly in a working girls costume; hat, cloak, long woolen skirt &
blouse. Her clothes were worn & threadbare, but neatly pressed & clean. She had
dark auburn hair that fell in heavy curls over her shoulders, large soft blue eyes, &
a wide sweetly shaped mouth. She had her mothers disposition; caring &
compassionate, though at times she could be an obstinate thing.
Her mother was a poor proud woman whod raised her daughter
single-handedly in a loving but strict home. When she was naughty or bad, her mother had
taken her right over her knee & spanked her. At first by hand. When shed become
a young woman, mother had introduced her daughters fulsome bottom to the hairbrush
& strap. At the same time her mother had started corset training. By the time she was
eighteen she had a Victorian waistline & a bust line as ripe & rounded as her
mothers. It practically burst from the rigid confines of her tightly laced corsets.
Shed moved to the city & taken a job as a sales clerk in
a ladies fashion store. Shed been staying with her older sister & her family of
four until Claire had suggested she might inquire at Mrs. Lynnes. Her older sister
had accompanied her to meet Mrs. Lynne & tour the house. The home was clean. There
would be two good meals every day. And Mrs. Lynne made it clear to both sisters that she
would accept no nonsense from her boarders. These three things, especially the last,
convinced her older sister to grant her approval. Amy, she announced, would move in the
next day. She was perfectly satisfied that her younger sister had found the perfect home
away from home.
The cold wind cut through her thin cape, & sent a shiver up
her stocking-clad legs. She felt strange as she picked up the small bag containing her
possessions & walked to the front door. She twisted the chimes, shifted her weight
nervously from one foot to the other. In a moment the door was swung open by a prim young
woman in a maids uniform. She led her into a gleaming parlor with a warm fire going
in the fireplace. She told Amy to wait there. The only sounds were the soft swish of her
dress as she glided up the stairs & the roar of air up the chimney. Time seemed to
stand still. In the stillness she thought she heard conversation, female voices. The
ticking of the grandfather clock reminded her of high school days, time spent waiting
outside Mrs. Johnsons office beneath the big Regulator clock.
Mrs. Lynne hurried down the stairs & into the parlor. Amy
tried to compose herself & smiled bravely at the matron. She was a tall handsome woman
with a buxom shape. Her dark hair was swept up in a pompadour that made her even more
elegant. She had a slender face with soft dark brown eyes & finely chiseled features.
A pince-nez rested on the broad curve of her pleated bosom. She wore a black serge dress
whose bodice fitted snugly over the rounded expanse of her bosom before tucking into neat
folds at her waist & flaring out again in tiny pleats over her hips. A starched linen
apron was tied around her waist. She smiled at Amy & told her she would take her up to
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While Amy followed the older woman up the stairs, Mrs. Lynne
repeated her litany of house rules. They passed a flight of stairs that led to the third
floor. Amy wondered if that was where Claire roomed. Her room was small & neat with a
thin carpet covering the floor, a brass bed, dry-sink & dresser, one chair. A china
basin rested in the dry sink. A row of pegs on the wall would be her closet. A single
curtained window looked out into the backyard. Mrs. Lynne told her to unpack & stay in
her room until Miss Adams summoned her to dinner.
"Welcome," she said & closed the door.
The big house fell silent again. How mysterious it all was. Why
must she stay here? Dusk was spreading its mantle over the trees as she unpacked her bag
& hung her clothing on the pegs. She wandered to the window to stare out into the
darkening scene below. There was a large yard with lilacs, dogwoods, maples, & oaks.
The trees near the house whipped & flung scarlet & gold-tipped tentacles against
the house. The air had turned heavy with the damp scent of rain. She removed her blouse
& skirt, stretched out on the bed, & pulled up the quilt. Rich smells of roasting
pork & sauerkraut drifted into the room, & she half-heard the first tentative
spatters of rain on the leaves outside before she fell asleep.
She had no idea that Claire was going to get it in the room
directly above hers, could not have imagined the scene: Claire laying over Mrs.
Lynnes lap on the bed, her legs kicking, arms flailing, while Mrs. Lynne held her
tightly into her ample bosom & spanked the daylights out of her backside with her well
Mrs. Lynne, a religious conservative, had always believed in old
fashioned maternal discipline; hard spankings with the flat of a long handled hairbrush.
Shed spanked so many bare bottoms with that old rosewood brush it had taken on a
rich polished sheen. She kept it on her bureau & used it each night on her own hair
before she went to bed.
Down in the kitchen the maid peeled potatoes & tried to hear
the muted sounds of the spanking that floated down the back staircase with the cool silent
drafts. She shivered as waves of righteous pleasure cascaded through her. Her assumption
that the new girl would soon be getting her bottom warmed as well added to her excitement.
It never took long. How would she react, she wondered? The girls
were always shocked at first, but invariably relented when Mrs. Lynne marched them firmly
up to their rooms.
Sound asleep now, Amy stirred & moved onto her side. She did
not know that Mrs. Lynne had returned to Claires room. But her mind registered
Claires squalls & the steady smack of the old hairbrush on her bare bottom. The
sounds seeped into her unconscious, resurrecting memories of Mrs. Johnsons country
school. When she was fourteen shed been told to stay after school & wait outside
Mrs. Johnsons office while another girl was inside for a lesson in deportment. The
classroom was empty. She sat at her desk & tried not to hear the smooth slap-slap of
Mrs. Johnsons paddle & the poor girls cries.
"A girls best friend," Mrs. Johnson called her
thick varnished paddle. It hung in the classroom right behind her desk for all her girls
to see. When the girl finally came out, she was red-faced & bleary-eyed. Then Mrs.
Johnson, plump & short of stature, appeared & ordered her into the inner sanctum.
The summons had made her shake like a leaf. Mrs. Johnson, a
teacher for twenty years, had understood. She was as gentle as Amys mother when she
lifted her skirt & drew down her drawers, before laying her prostrate over the big oak
spanking desk. Shed cautioned her not to move, it would go worse if she did.
Poor Amy, still shaking-- it was her first summons --had
gratefully whispered shed be as still as a mouse. She had no idea what was in store
for her. She lay quietly face down while Mrs. Johnson, a consummate disciplinarian both in
her home & at school, lifted the big sorority paddle & arced it around to
Amys ample crown cheeks. Her bottom gleamed white in the afternoon sunlight that
poured through the office window. The maple paddle flashed & caught both cheeks,
sinking deeply, before it sprang back from the sheer resilience of her bottom.
Still it left a scarlet outline, & Amy was shocked at the
pain. She tightened her grip on the desk top before the paddle sighed & smacked her
again. This time she couldnt help herself. Her bottom ignited with an awful pain
that spread into her thighs & belly. Another scarlet imprint. She began to plead with
the teacher, told her shed get her work in on time-- she promised! But it was too
late for apologies. The paddle landed again, & she knew she was in for a lengthy
session. She lost track of time, forgot where she was. The paddling seemed like it was
never going to end. Each stroke burned, then blurred into the one before it. The pain in
her backside obscured everything. The paddling became her world. She was crying &
clutching at her buttocks when she woke.
It was dark now. The room was cold. The falling rain beat a steady
tattoo on the window. She burrowed beneath the quilt & wondered if shed missed
dinner. Mrs. Lynne would be terribly upset! Then a womans voice, low & firm,
filtered down to her. She heard a girls pleas & cries, alternating with firm
bottom smacks. It confused her. Was she still dreaming about Mrs. Johnsons paddling?
Half asleep, she could not connect what she heard to Mrs. Lynne. Her bottom cheeks tingled
with the awful memory of her dream. She felt grateful that was over.
Her bedroom door suddenly opened. The maid stood framed in a
bright rectangle of light. "Dinner in five minutes, Miss. Best not to come down after
the Missus." The door swung shut. Amy fought off the desire to sleep, swung her legs
out of bed, & wondered what in the world was to come of her...
The Blushing End?
Chapters 2 & 3 of
are available in
E-Mag issues 2 & 3,
respectively. Use the link above or click here to treat yourself to the
rest of this thrilling tale
& all of
the other fabulous FemDom stories, letters, art & more in
each of the FHL issues!!
And, also by Nigel McParr:
delightfully detailed 30,000
+ word Victorian era spanking saga featuring forbidden sisterly love,
strictly old-fashioned maternal
discipline, Fem-Fem schoolroom CP, & a bare bottom blushing for
the older sister over her hubby to be's knee to boot!
available on this site!
A rebellious daughter learns legal adulthood is
meaningless as long as she lives under her stern mother's roof in...
"The Morning After!"
A spanking-hot Victorian era tale tells of a young woman's move to the
city & new life in a STRICTLY old-fashioned boarding house... "What's A Poor Girl To Do?!"
A chance encounter with a wise older woman leads to a runaway teenager's
red-cheeked rebirth in...
"Begging for a Firm
A spoiled brat of a wife finally gets the blistered bottom lesson she
needs & deserves from her new, no-nonsense housekeeper in...
Sorry tabloids... We've got the inside scoop on a scalding-hot NEVER too
old to go over Momma's knee story in...
Star Still Spanked!"
A more than mature Miss rejoices in the firm domestic Domination she loves
to hate & needs soooo much in...
A fact-based fable delves into the details of a young American women's
harsh introduction to firm foreign laws...
Justice for Cynthia!"
A caring but firm house mother keeps her coed
charges in line the strictly "old-fashioned" way in...
"House Mom Means Business!"
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