Nymphet Juliette
A Novella in 15 Parts

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15

*** Author's Note ***
Hi folks!

World Cup 98 has finally concluded and so I'm back to writing again! To those of you missed me this past month, thanks for your notes and thoughts. I appreciate knowing I'm valued. Hopefully I've got enough material backlogged to keep everyone well "motivated" for the rest of the summer!

(FM's new slogan: Viagraª for the Mind. Hee hee.)

Back to business.

In honor of the classic Rosewood tale "Emma" -- one of my most favorite -- I am separately posting a new story called "Nymphet Juliette." Fans of the original will hopefully enjoy this one as it is in a similar vein.

The story is quite long -- over 24,000 words -- and will be posted in 15 parts, though of course the entire story will be available on my website. I'm rating it with Five Stars, so at least I think it's good. ;-) Your mileage may vary.

Below is how I introduce the story. If it perks your interest, read on!

Frank
The Flogmaster

INTRODUCTION

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Credit Where Credit is Due: I have "stolen" the character of Juliette from Rosewood's masterpiece "Emma," where she is briefly mentioned in part 24. Rosewood's description of her perked my interest. He writes:

"She had the kind of body people, male and female, wanted to undress, and the kind of bottom people wanted desperately to spank. And many people, despite the girl's good behavior, nevertheless found reasons to undress and spank her."

I started wondering about this beautiful girl. What would her life be like? What would it be like to be so attractive people just couldn't resist coming up with wild and threadbare excuses to paddle your bare bottom? (I for one, don't think I'd mind a bit. ;-)

So, with all appropriate apologies and full credit to Rosewood, here's my take on the adventures of the nymphet Juliette. (Her story begins at the end of the school term, not long after the events described by Rosewood in part 24.)

P.S. If you'd like to read Rosewood's "Emma," I believe it is still available at Laura's Spanking Corner at http://www.best.com/~lauraw/spanking/.

*** WARNING ***
Note that it's too much trouble for me to post separate headers for each chapter, so I'm using the generic "M/f, schoolgirl" one above. Be advised, however, that individual chapters may contain other elements (like f/f).

In short, if you didn't like "Emma" you probably won't like this, and if you didn't have problems with the stuff in "Emma," you shouldn't here either.
***

Chapter 01: The Ride Home

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

"Your ticket please."

The teenage girl looked up at the conductor in surprise. Usually tickets weren't taken until the train was underway. Perhaps this was a new policy. The conductor was tall and extremely thin, with a pair of wire spectacles adoring his narrow, crooked nose. His eyes were bird-like and eyed her greedily. Juliette shivered underneath her vest and warm jacket.

"You do have a ticket, don't you?" asked the man, leaning down so his face was even with the girl's, his voice a faint rasp, filled with implications.

"Uh, certainly," said Juliette. She set down her bag and nervously began to search inside it. There wasn't much room in the tiny corridor, and the girl felt panic as she sensed the growing pressure of time. The man was watching her every move. Frantically Juliette opened the side pocket of her bag, but the ticket was not inside! Her heart sinking, she suddenly remembered she'd placed the ticket in the pocket of her vest for safe-keeping and easy retrieval.

"Here you go, sir." Juliette breathed a deep sigh of relief as the man took the ticket and stood back to his full height. He pointed down the hallway.

"Compartment four."

Juliette stowed her bag inside the compartment and found a seat. She sat down with relief, relaxing as she looked out the window. Finally Kathrine Parr was out of her life, at least for the summer. It wasn't that Juliette didn't like the school--she truly appreciated the lessons she was learning there--but lately it seemed she'd been at the wrong end of a slipper every time she turned around. Every teacher, prefect, and even the headmaster himself, seemed determined to bare Juliette's bottom and give her a sound spanking given the flimsiest excuse. It was exhasperating, even more so because Juliette was a well-behaved child, but every time she complained or protested, it only made her punishments worse. Thankfully, she'd have the summer to recooperate.

Initially there was only an old man in the compartment with her, and the girl felt uncomfortable with the way his eyes seemed to suck at her. A few minutes later, however, an elderly woman joined the man, and then a pretty lady in a long yellow dress entered and sat next to Juliette. As the train began to move she smiled at Juliette.

"You must be on leave from Kathrine Parr."

"Yes, ma'am," said the girl politely.

"Ah, I myself went there as a child. I have such fond memories of the place. Mr Critchley is still the head I trust?"

"Oh yes," nodded Juliette, shivering. She could not think of Mr Critchley without remembering the dreadful three-part caning he'd given her. The original sentence had been ten strokes, but she had been too sore to take it in one go, and by complaining, she'd prolonged her punishment over three sessions and a grand total of 16 strokes!

"Discipline still as strict as ever?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The woman licked her lips and eyed Juliette critically. "Are you a proper, well-behaved girl or do you get the cane often?"

The teenager's face turned pink. "Uh, not often, ma'am."

"Ah, but you have been caned, then."

"Yes, ma'am."

"On the bare?"

Juliette's face grew hot. She looked away from the woman and squirmed in her seat, sensing the old man's eyes on her body.

"I asked you a question, young lady," snapped the woman. "Are Kathrine Parr girls no longer taught to be polite?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am. Of course we are."

The woman sniffed. "Cheeky little thing," she said to the old couple. "If I had a slipper handy I'd give her a good dose myself."

"Oh, please, ma'am. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that, well, I find talking about spankings rather embarrassing."

The woman shrugged. "That's no excuse to be rude."

The kind-looking old woman seated across the way rose and took down a large bag from the overhead storage bin. She unzipped the suitcase and began searching inside. "Ah!" she cried suddenly, lifting out a set of slippers. "Will one of these do?"

The young woman was delighted. She clapped her hands eagerly and took one of the slippers from the old woman. "Slendid!" Her eyes went stern as she glared at Juliette. "Will you accept proper punishment for your rudeness?"

Juliette looked at the woman in horror. She didn't honestly expect her to bend over for a spanking in the train car, did she? But the woman sat expectantly, eyebrows raised, the slipper gripped tightly in her right hand.

"Please, ma'am, you can't be serious!"

"I am very serious. I know the regime of Kathrine Parr well and though I didn't appreciate it as much growing up, it did me a world of good in the long run. Now, over my lap. If you cooperate I shan't take down your panties. Or would you rather I write Mr Critchley a letter telling him of the rudeness of one of his girls?"

Visions of a stern Mr Critchley waving his cane and angry letters sent home to her parents filled poor Juliette's head and she began to cry. "Oh, no, ma'am, please don't complain to Mr Critchley!"

"Then you'll accept a slippering from me." The woman set her purse on the floor of the compartment and smoothed out her skirt. Without waiting for Juliette's response, she dragged the girl across her lap, sliding herself toward the middle of the seat to make room for holding the girl properly. It was a tight fit, and Juliette had to keep her legs bent at the knees, but soon she was in position.

Juliette buried her burning face in her hands at the bottom of the seat, wishing no one could see her like this. The woman was gently patting Juliette's skirt, feeling the plump cheeks through the thin fabric.

"Come on, love," she whispered. "Don't hide. We want to see your face as you are spanked so we can know that you are properly chastised."

Moaning with despair, Juliette uncovered her face and looked up at the elderly couple. The old man's gnarled lips were parted in a leering grin, and the woman sat patiently waiting, her face composed and mild.

The woman carefully smoothed down Juliette's skirt so it covered her bottom and thighs thoroughly, and then she delicately lifted it, revealing the girl's pert buttocks encased in tight blue panties. The old man sucked in the air sharply through his teeth at the sight, and the young woman sighed.

"You are so very young," she whispered to Juliette. "How old are you?"

"F-fourteen, ma'am."

"Ah, and nearly a woman, I can see. You are growing more lovely every day, that is obvious. You are still thin, but you have the beginnings of hips. Your bottom is swelling, as are your petite breasts. You remind me of an elf, or a fairy, a suculent little wood-nymph. A miniature woman, with such flawless skin." The woman's hand carressed Juliette's thighs and buttocks as she spoke. "You will break hearts, little one."

Juliette didn't know what to say. This was far different from any lecture she'd ever received prior to a spanking. The woman was saying she was beautiful. It was flattering, to an extent, but it was also hightly embarrassing.

"And here," the woman said, slipping her fingers between Juliette's thighs. "You have hairs, don't you? The hairs of a woman?"

As the fingers scratched at her pussy, Juliette wanted to scream. Terror had turned her muscles to lead. The touching was awakening all sorts of terrible desires inside the girl. A quiet burning sensation began to tease Juliette's sex. She began to cry.

"Oh, please, just spank me and get it over with!" she hissed.

The woman sighed. "Yes, you are an impatient, rude, little girl. I shall spank you indeed. Now keep quiet, unless you want the whole train to know you're being spanked like a baby!"

With those sharp words the woman took up the narrow slipper and began to apply it vigorously to Juliette's round bottom. After just a few spanks Juliette felt her bottom tingling, then becoming warm. The woman spanked hard and fast, alternating cheeks with each blow. This gave Juliette time to absorb the spanks, for as one landed she pondered the other. Soon her cheeks were bouncing and rotating--left/right, left/right, left/right--as she struggled awkwardly in the narrow seat. A low cry escaped her lips, and then tears began to burn her eyes. She gripped the leather seat tightly in her hands and held on, praying the spanking would be over soon. The spanks came so rapidly there was no time to think, and Juliette could only cry, her bottom stinging so horribly she couldn't believe it. This was worse than the fifty with Mr Critchley's table tennis bat!

As the pain mounted, Juliette began to sob, wiggling frantically and moaning in terror that the spanking was not yet finished. How much longer could this last? she thought, and then she realized she was wiggling for nothing, for the spanks had stopped and the awful burning of her bottom was simply her reminder of the spanking.

Then Juliette realized that someone else was in the room. Peering upward through her tears, she made out the tall figure of the conductor. She vaguely heard voices, something about "well-deserved thrashing" and laughter, and her cheeks grew warm with shame. She gulped in the last of her sobs and, wiping her eyes, struggled to get to her feet. Reluctantly, it seemed to Juliette, the woman consented.

Juliette smoothed her skirt down over her burning backside and carefully eased herself into her spot on the seat. The conductor was punching the tickets of the old couple, and then he took the woman's and punched hers.

"And you, young lady? Where is your ticket?"

Confusion blended with the heat on Juliette's face. She shook her head in puzzlement. "You already have my ticket," she murmurred.

The man smiled, his lips sharp like razors. "I'm afraid not." His cold eyes stared at the girl, hard little dots that told her nothing.

"I don't understand," said the girl. "I gave you my ticket when I got on board."

"Then where is it? I must have punched it."

"No, you didn't!" cried Juliette, her heart pounding. "You just took it."

"I most certainly did not."

"Yes, you did!" shouted Juliette, her panic complete. Was she losing her mind? What was going on?

There was stunned silence in the compartment for a moment. The conductor glared at the girl. "Are you acusing me of lying?"

For a second the Kathrine Parr girl hesitated. She did not want to make the man more angry. "No," she said softly. "You probably just forgot."

"Well, the bottom line is, you have no ticket and are not allowed on this train. Do you have the money to pay for a ticket?"

Tears came to Juliette's eyes. "No. My parents sent me the ticket by mail."

"Ah," said the conductor. "So you were careless and lost your ticket and now you seek to blame a poor old innocent conductor. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"No, no," moaned Juliette, but she could feel the glaring eyes of the others in the compartment, the world closing in around her. No one believed her, that was obvious. She stared around. "It's not fair! I gave him my ticket, I swear!"

"If you have no money," said the conductor, "I'm afraid you're on this train illegally. Are your parents picking you up?"

Juliette nodded dumbly, too frustrated to speak.

"Then they shall have to pay for your ticket when you disembark."

"Oh, please, sir. Don't do that," pleaded the girl. "My father will be furious at having to pay for a ticket twice!"

"There is also the matter of a fine, young lady. Boarding a train without the proper payment is a crime. Your father can pay for the ticket upon arrival, but there is an additional penalty imposed."

"Oh, God no! Please, sir. Don't you remember me giving you the ticket? Please say you remember. Please!"

The conductor stared at the crying girl, her bright blue eyes brimming over with tears as wept, her slim body shuddering with sobs. He could still almost see her stretched out across the lap of the woman, the slipper banging juicily against the teenager's pert haunches. He licked his lips and sighed.

"Well..." he said softly, and then he paused for several seconds, watching as the girl looked up at him, eyes shining with desperate hope. "It's against all regulations, and I'd be sacked if the line found out, but I suppose I could just pretend you're not here. No one but the five of us would ever know."

"Oh, please, sir, that would so good of you!" cried the girl, falling to the feet of the man and kissing his hand. "Thank you, sir. Thank you!"

The conductor was frowning, however, and doubts began to assault Juliette. Was he changing his mind? He couldn't!

"It's really not fair to let you escape this situation without any consequences," said the conductor. "I mean, I feel sorry for you and all, but you do need some lesson out of this. Being careless with something as important as a train ticket is inexcusable, wouldn't you say?"

Juliette nodded, her mouth dry. She wanted to cry out that she hadn't lost the ticket at all, but there was no use explaining that again. It would just make the conductor upset again, and she needed him to be kind to her.

She glanced at the others in the compartment, the old couple and the woman who'd just slippered her, and they, too, were nodding in agreement with the conductor's words.

"I'm afraid I can't let you off," said the conductor to Juliette. "You'll just have to face your father."

"Oh, please!" moaned Juliette. "He'll cane me for sure! He just bought a cane, I know. He told me. After I got caned at school he said that obviously he'd been too gentle with me at home, and in the future, I'd be dealt with at home just like at Kathrine Parr!"

The conductor nodded sadly. "It's a shame, I know. But you must admit you deserve it. If I had a cane I'd give it to you myself, right here, but of course there really isn't room for a proper swing."

As the man's voice trailed off, Juliette saw her opening. She wasn't happy about it, but it literally beat getting the cane from her father. She snatched up the slipper from the woman's lap and held it out to the man.

"Please, sir. You can punish me with this. I--I'll take your punishment, sir, if you'll let me ride without my ticket and don't tell my father. Please!"

The conductor took the slipper and glanced at the woman, who smiled, and at the elderly couple, who nodded, and he gave a heavy sigh. "Well, all right, young lady, but this is going to be a sound slippering. You are putting me at grave risk of my job by doing this, but I trust that this punishment will teach you to be more careful in the future."

"Oh, yes, sir. Certainly!"

"All right. Now get on your hands and knees. I'm going to give you twelve on each cheek." As Juliette gratefully got down on the floor in the required position, she felt the tall man stand over her so she was between his legs. Her bottom stuck up behind her, awkward and vulnerable. She held her breath as the conductor pulled up her skirt, revealing her blue school panties.

"This is going to be on the bare bottom," said the conductor sternly, ignoring Juliette's gasp. He turned to the woman in the yellow dress. "Perhaps you'd do the honors?"

"I'd be happy to." The woman quickly slid off her seat and knelt behind Juliette. Her fingers grasped at the elastic waistband of the girl's underwear and carefully began to pull them down. She took them all the way to Juliette's knees, exposing the fourteen-year-old's bare buttocks, red and puffy from her previous spanking. Juliette was mortifed. Strangers on a train were seeing her most private areas!

The conductor moved his legs inward to hug Juliette's hips, holding her in place, and he grasped the slipper in his right hand and perpared to punish her. Lifting the slipper well above his head, he brought it down in a long arc that concluded by slapping against the left cheek of Juliette's bottom.

Juliette yelped loudly, the sharp retort of the leather sole sending terror to the girl's soul. She couldn't believe how much it hurt. That one swat hurt more than ten from the woman! The problem was that the man was stronger and had much more leverage than the woman had with Juliette across her lap. Also, because he was spanking parallel to her body, the entire length of the narrow slipper connected with Juliette's buttock, the tip curving around the jutting overhang of her cheek and snapping against the base of her bottom, just above her thigh. Each blow caused the entire cheek to explode with agonizing fire.

The second spank came on the same left cheek again, drawing a shriek of surprise from poor Juliette. She thrashed her body wildly, but the legs of the conductor held her fast. A third blow to the same cheek brought the pain to a climax. The girl collapsed and howled, no longer caring who heard her cries.

The conductor rebuked her, telling her to be quieter or she'd receive extras, and then he set about working on her neglected right cheek. Oh, the pain. Juliette tried to be brave and take her punishment well, but the swats were terrifyingly loud, the sting overwhelming, and Juliette finally had to put a hand to her mouth and bite on her thumb to keep from screaming. Tears poured down her cheeks and she put her head close to the floor, sobbing without control.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! came the slipper, slowly and methodically. The conductor spanked the graceful globes thoroughly, varying his strikes so that every inch of Juliette's buttocks felt the leather. The last few he placed right near the center of her cheeks, bring the slipper in from an opposite angle so he could blister the flesh hidden within the crack of her ass.

When he finally stopped Juliette just lay sobbing, her bottom feeling sore inside and out. Even the cane, though intense, had never so thoroughly burned her bottom. There it was only a few tender stripes. Now she felt like she'd never sit comfortably again, for every portion of her bottom ached.

Rising slowly to her feet, Juliette carefully pulled her panties up over her scorched rear and smooth down her skirt. She wiped tears from her face with her sleeve and smiled bravely at the conductor. "Thank you, sir, for administering my punishment," she said, just as she'd been taught at school.

"You are welcome, young lady." The conductor tipped his hat to the girl, nodded at the others, and departed.

With a huge sigh, Juliette eased herself onto the seat, tears stinging her eyes because her bottom was so sensitive. The old woman in the other seat was putting away her slippers, and she took out a tissue and passed it to Juliette.

"There, there, honey," she said kindly. "It's all over now."

Juliette took the tissue and wiped her eyes, smiling at the woman gratefully. "T-Thank you, ma'am," she whispered. She leaned back against the seat and looked out at the window, for the first time noticing the beautiful scenery flashing past. She'd be home in an hour. She thought of seeing her family and felt pleased, but a little nervous. After today's train ride, she hoped her father hadn't been serious about purchasing a cane. He'd be getting a report from school soon, and who knew what sort of comments her teachers had put on it.

Chapter 02: Welcome Home

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

"See you again soon," winked the conductor as Juliette climbed off the train. The pretty teenager shuddered, flushing crimson at the thought that the strange man had seen her bare bottom.

She was feeling a little sorry for herself as she wandered along the crowded station, her suitcase enormously heavy, her family nowhere in sight. Her bottom was still sore. It made her panties feel too tight. She figeted, wishing she could rub her bum.

"Juliette!" screamed a happy voice.

The girl turned and saw a petite woman in a red coat racing toward her. "Mummy!" she cried, running forward to embrace the woman. As she buried herself in her mother's arms, Juliette wept. It felt so good to be held, to be so loved. She hugged her mother tightly for a long time. Until she heard her noisy brother and sister giggling, she forgot that she was supposed to be a mature fourteen-year-old. She pulled away.

"Hi Dom," she whispered at the pug-nose boy who nodded indifferently. He looked like he'd rather be playing football than picking up his kid sister at the train station.

"Mary." Juliette gave her sister a hug and kissed her on the cheek. Then she looked up at her father, a tall lanky man, walking up behind the group.

"Daddy!" cried Juliette, and rushed to hug him.

For a few seconds there was pandemoanium as everyone giggled, shouted, and talked at once. Then the sharp voice of Juliette's mother was heard above the fray.

"Why child, what on earth have you been up to! Look at yourself!"

Juliette's excited face fell slightly, as she looked down. Her pretty dress was rumpled and the hem was torn. The girl had no idea how that had happened, but suspected it might have been during her adventures in the train car, while she had her mind focused on other matters.

"Your dress is filthy and torn!" scolded Mrs. Maison sternly. "How could you. This is one of your best dresses!"

"I'm sorry, Mum," muttered the girl. "I've no idea what happened. It was clean when I got on the train. It must have been all the comotion of getting on and off."

"It's not like this is an international plane flight," growled Juliette's father, lifting her suitcase under one arm as the family began to move toward the exit. "You should learn to take more care of your clothing. Is it ruined?" He asked this latter of his wife, who shook her head.

"It can be mended. But I'm embarrassed that a daughter of mine should be traipsing about dressed like a vagabond. I ought to put you across my knee!" She placed a hand on Juliette's shoulder and with the other delivered a sharp whack to the girl's backside.

The spank caught poor Juliette completely by surprise. To the astonishment of everyone, she shrieked and leapt a good two feet forward, clutching at her behind as though stung by a bee. Around the terminal people stopped and stared at the family. Mrs. Maison's face went scarlet.

"Juliette Bea Maison! How dare you mock me!" she snapped, nearly too furious to speak. "Get your naughty bottom over here! Since you want so badly to make a spectacle of yourself, I shall do it properly."

With those fateful words, she dragged a reluctant and horrified Juliette to a nearby bench where she proceeded to pull the girl across her lap. Juliette couldn't believe this was happening. She howled and tried to put her hands back over her bottom, but the woman wasn't going to allow that. She gripped Juliette's palms with her left hand and proceeded to swat the girl's bottom.

After the first few spanks Juliette calmed down, realizing panic only made her situation worse. She did want to panic, though. She felt like she'd been dropped into a cheesy science fiction movie, something where her parents weren't really her parents, or perhaps this was an alternative universe. Even as she felt her mum's palm across her arse, she still could hardly believe it was real. Her mum had never spanked her before, not like this. Oh, sure, there had been one or two times she'd given Juliette a wallop or two with a slipper, but that was all. What had changed?

Juliette gasped as she felt her mother lifting her dress, exposing her blue panties to anyone who passed. At first it was this that bothered Juliette the most, but after a few seconds she realized her bottom was uncomfortably hot, burning with each savage spank, and Juliette began to wiggle and cry from the pain.

Dominick and Mary stood nearby watching the spanking. Dominick was leering at her, while Mary watched with eyes the size of saucers. The looming figure of Mr. Maison stood behind them. His face was stern and sad, and Juliette felt her chest go hot with shame that he had to witness this.

The spanking didn't last long--no more than a few dozen across her panties, but it completely broke poor Juliette. She was sobbing as the family exited the station. She was overcome with shame and couldn't bear to look around at anyone, even her family. She still couldn't believe her mother had done that. Juliette had never felt so disoriented and confused. How many spankings was she to receive today, anyway?

Chapter 03: Home Again

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Juliette wouldn't have believed it if you'd told her in advance, but five minutes in the back seat with Dominick and Mary made her forget her spanking, at least for a little while. Mary was sympathetic as any sister, while Dominick, well, he did nothing but torment his sister, as any good brother would.

In the car, Mary grabbed Juliette's hand and gave her a reasuring squeeze. Dominick grinned and told his father to be sure to go home via Davenport Lane, as it was bumpiest. Juliette kicked her brother, and he poked her back, and soon they were in the middle of a terrible melee.

"You kids settle down or I'll pull over and give you all a thrashing!" scolded Mr. Maison, and the three children relaxed a bit. After that, conversation turned to other matters, tales of school and home, changes and the whereabouts of old friends. Juliette began to get comfortable again, though her bottom was still sore.

When Dominick began to bore everyone with tales of his bravery and skill on the football field, it was Juliette who brought him down a peg by reminding him of all the times she'd beaten him. This annoyed Dominick to no end and he immediately fought back with wild excuses and defenses.

"That's not even fair. I was only a kid then, and besides, I had a sore hamstring that day," he burbled rapidly, churning out excuse after excuse. Everyone laughed, enjoying the teasing, but that only made Dominick angrier.

Juliette loved seeing Dominick bluster, and so she kept pushing. "And what about that time Darla and I beat you and Jack 4-nil? Oh, that's right--that must have been the day you played with your shoes tied together by mistake!"

Dominick was furious, but before he could say anything, Juliette pounced.

"Did you enjoy getting beat by two _girls_, Dom? Have you told all your friends at school about that day? Oh, I suppose not. _I'll_ have to do that, then."

Mr. Maison glanced in his rearview mirror and saw that Dominick's anger was real. He called a truce. "That's enough, you two. Dominick, take it easy. Juliette, no more, unless you want more of what your mother just gave you."

Dominick collapsed sullenly in his seat and stared out the window. Juliette noticed he seemed to have capitulated easily. Usually he argued with father about everything. She sighed and leaned back, feeling triumphant.

Then it hit her. It was far too good to keep to herself. A smirk came to her lips. "Martha Gibson was watching that day, wasn't she? She never did talk to you after that. What was it she called you... Dillyboy?"

Dominick's face had gone pink and he glared at his sister as though his eyes alone would slay her. "Daddy!" he whined.

"Dillyboy, Dillyboy, Dillyboy," singsang Juliette, oblivious to the look her father flashed her. She giggled and hid behind Mary as her brother tried to punch her. "Dillyboy!"

"Juliette!" roared Mr. Maison. He pressed the brake and eased the car off the road. There was a wide shoulder and not much traffic. "Out of the car, girl!" He opened his door and went to the front of the car.

Juliette went pale, glancing at her mother for help. She gave none. Dominick sneered. Slowly, Juliette opened her door and got out. Her father stood waiting at the front of the car.

"Didn't I tell you to stop teasing him?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"No butts but yours across the bonet!" snapped the man. "I can see your mother and I have been far too lenient with you, young lady. We shall begin to rectify that immediately."

Before the teenage girl could move, her father snatched her hand and pulled her across the still warm bonet of the car. His left hand pinned her down, gripping her wrists in the small of her back. His right hand went to her skirt and as she kicked and protested, he lifted it.

"Quiet, girl, or I shall take down your knickers!"

Moaning, Juliette waited for the inevitable. They came quickly and hard, loud spanks across her bum. She gasped at the intensity, wiggling frantically. The car was warm beneath her and her bum was becoming warmer. Neither sensation was exactly pleasant.

This spanking was much longer and harder than the one her mother had just given her. Juliette squealed and cried, her bottom jiggling desperately under the sharp wallops of her father's strong hand. There was no mercy for her; only stinging slaps. Her pleadings did nothing to slow down the pace or severity of the spanking, but the poor girl couldn't help herself.

"Please Daddy!" she wailed, kicking her slim legs and writhing on the car's bonet.

"You shall learn to obey me!" shouted the man. "Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy, I understand. Please, I've had enough!"

"I'll tell you when you've had enough."

And the spanks still rained down. Juliette was painfully aware of her surroundings, a rural road with the occasional slow-moving car, perhaps farmers in the nearby field watching with eager eyes. She could feel the presence of her mother and brother and sister in the car, no doubt enjoying her further humiliation.

Crimey, she thought miserably, I'm not even home yet I've been spanked twice. Four if you count the train!

Finally it was over. Mr. Maison slowly let his daughter off the car. He turned her around to look at her. "Do you understand why I just did that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your behavior earned you every spank."

"I know, sir." Juliette paused. "Thank you for administering my punishment."

Her father beamed. "Well, that's much better. Did you learn that at school?" Juliette nodded. "Good. I think it very appropriate. Things are going to be different around here, Juliette. Don't think you can get away with what you used to."

Back in the car, Juliette eased herself onto the seat and winced the whole way home. Indeed, things were different.

Chapter 04: A Brother's Love

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

That evening, after a well-cooked supper, Juliette's mother asked her to do the cleanup. The girl agreed that it was certainly her turn, and set to work. She was half-way through with the dishes when Dominick came into the kitchen. The grim smirk on his face made Juliette nervous.

"Hi, Sis," he said casually, running his hand along the counter.

"Hi."

"Working hard, eh?"

"Yeah. Look, Dom, what do you want?"

"Me? What makes you think I want something?"

Juliette finished rinsing a bowl and set it on the counter to dry. "Don't give me that look. You're still mad at me."

Dom shrugged, his smile getting bigger. "Okay. I'll be blunt: to make up for how mean you were to me, you are going to take off all your clothes. I want to see you naked."

Juliette nearly dropped the plate she was washing she was so shocked. She turned on her brother furiously, surprised to see him standing calmly, his face utterly serious.

"You've _got_ to be kidding," she began.

Dominick pinned his sister's arms, backing her tender rear into the sink. "You _will_ do what I say, do you understand?"

For an answer, Juliette spat into her brother's face.

Dominick went livid. Veins in his neck bulged with anger. Without a word he let her go and walked away, wiping off his face with his sleeve. Juliette was surprised he left so easily--it made her nervous.

Thirty seconds later he was back, moving so quickly Juliette didn't have time to react. He snatched a plate from the counter and with a final glance at her, deliberately smashed upon the kitchen floor.

"Dominick!" gasped Juliette, and then raced after the fleeing figure. As he dashed upstairs, Juliette near ran into her mother in the corridor.

"What was that crash? Did you break something?"

"Mother! Dominick smashed a plate. He did it on purpose, too. He ran up here." Not even waiting to see if her mother was following, Juliette darted under her mother's arm and up the stairs. She could see the bathroom door was shut and knew that's where Dominick had gone. As if that would save him.

Juliette flung open the door. Her brother sat on the toilet, pants around his ankles, a magazine on his lap. He appeared outraged.

"Hey! Don't you even knock!"

"Juliette! What is the matter with you," exclaimed Mrs. Maison as she came up behind the stunned girl.

"But you don't understand. He was downstairs. He broke a plate!"

Mrs. Maison grabbed Juliette by the ear, dragging her downstairs. "You ought to ashamed of yourself young lady!" she scolded. "Your first day home and here you are breaking my dishes and trying to blame it on your brother!"

"But Mum, it's true! Dom broke the plate!"

"Now Juliette, do you really expect me to believe that? He was obviously well-ocupied until you broke in on him. That was very rude, too. I think I shall spank you for that, too. Yes, I shall."

"Nooooo," wailed Juliette, but her cries only served to alert the rest of the household that she was about to be disciplined.

Mrs. Maison sat down in the center of the living room sofa and pulled her wriggling daughter across her lap.

"Settle down, girl, or I shall fetch your father's belt!"

Juliette whimpered at that, but quieted. There was no way she wanted a strapping. Another spanking would be bad enough. And this one was a bad one, or a good one, depending on your point of view. Mrs. Maison lifted up Juliette's skirt and began to spank the girl soundly, ignoring her yelps and moans.

"You certainly are a noisy girl for one who just asked to be spanked," commented Mrs. Maison. She paused her spanking long enough to tug down Juliette's panties and expose her daughter's round buttocks, already gleaming red. Then she began to slap those quivering cheeks. Juliette howled and thrashed her legs and made the whole process take about twice as long as it should have been. She kicked off her panties halfway through the spanking, but she didn't even care. She just wanted the terrible burning in her rear to go away. When it was finally over, she was a limp doll, sobbing without control.

"That was for attempting to get your brother in trouble, and being rude to him," said Mrs. Maison. She helped the weeping teen to her feet. "Now run upstairs and fetch me my hairbrush. We must deal with your breaking that plate and my hand is plum wore out!"

Juliette's face had gone ashen. "Please, not more!" she begged. "I'm terribly sorry, Mummy, it won't happen again. Not the hairbrush, please!"

"Now, daughter. If I have to go upstairs I will return with the hairbrush _and_ your father's belt."

Juliette gulped and ran, her scorched bottom jiggling behind her with every step. She found the dreadful hairbrush quickly, on her mother's dresser. It was a large wooden brush with a broad back. Juliette knew it would hurt like the devil.

"Please, Mum. Not too hard. I'll take my spanking but not too hard, okay?" Juliette gave her mother the brush and almost eagerly bent over the back of the sofa.

Mrs. Maison smiled. The girl was learning. She flipped up Juliette's skirt, admiring the firm round cheeks of her daughter. The girl was still young, but God she was already incredibly sexy. They would have to put a tight leash on her. Boys would not let a pretty arse like that get away easily.

"We'll make it twenty-five with the brush."

Juliette winced but nodded, spreading her legs and bracing herself. "Yes, Mum," she whispered, just praying to get it over with.

Chapter 05: A Sister's Tail

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Juliette was still seething the next morning at breakfast. She could hardly look at anyone else in the family. After her mother's thirty with the hairbrush the previous evening -- Juliette had _not_ been able to stay in position and got several extra -- her mother had pinned her skirt up and insisted that naughty girls spent the evening doing chores with their punished bare bottoms on display. When the dishes were finished, Juliette had been sent to the corner, still without knickers, knowing her drooling brother was watching. It was awful, knowing she was supposed to be the adult example, yet her she was, bare bottomed and in the corner.

After breakfast the family went their separate ways. Juliette ended up in Mary's room, chatting with her about school and friends. Mary wanted to know everything about Katherine Parr as she would be attending next year. Juliette wasn't sure what to tell her -- she didn't want to disappoint her sister and damper her enthusiasm, but she couldn't lie to her.

"Sure, Katherine Parr is a good school and a lot of fun, sometimes. I have a number of close friends. But it's very strict," she warned.

Mary's eyes were wide with excitement. "Daddy says they use the _cane_ there. Have you ever seen it? Have you ever been caned?"

Juliette tried to shrug casually. "Oh, sure. The cane, the leather strap, the wooden paddle, the slipper, even old-fashioned hand-spankings across a teacher's lap."

"Really? What's it like? Tell me!"

Juliette stretched herself out on Mary's bed. Her bottom wasn't as sore as yesterday, but it was still tender. She didn't relish sitting when she didn't have to.

"Why do you want to know about stuff like that?" she asked crossly. "It's not the most pleasant topic."

Mary knelt by the bed and looked up at her big sister. Tears glistened from her large, round eyes. "I-I'm afraid, Juliette," she whispered. "I- I've never been beaten. Daddy and Mum spank me, of course, and I always cry and cry. But I don't see how I'd ever take a caning or paddling or strapping!"

Juliette felt something sharp jab her heart. She reached out and embraced her sister. "Shhhhh. It's okay, sis. It's not so bad. It just takes some getting used to. After my first time I didn't have much of a problem. The first was the worst. Besides, once you see all the other girls getting the same treatment you'll come to realize it's just an ordinary part of life -- not something you want to go out of your way to encounter, of course -- but inevitable."

"Oh, but I shall cry and cry and everyone will think I am a baby!"

"No, they won't. Not at Katherine Parr. Believe me, everyone there knows what it's like to get a thrashing -- everyone cries."

"Really?"

"Really. Why I remember on my very first day at Katherine Parr I saw a girl named Rebecca -- she seemed much older and more mature than me -- get called to the front of the class. Everyone went silent as though holding their breath. I wondered what all the fuss was about. Then I saw Mr Warton taking the slipper from his desk -- my blood went cold. I knew KP was strict but I hadn't know to what degree.

"Anyway, Rebecca was bent over Mr Warton's desk, her skirt flipped right up, and he proceeded to wallop her bum with the slipper. He gave her six loud strokes. It was so quiet you couldn't help but hear her sniffling and gasping and struggling not to cry. I couldn't believe how hard Mr Warton struck her -- he lifted that slipper high above his head and flashed it down like a cricket bat.

"After the six I thought it was over and I started to breath again. But Mr Warton reached over to Rebecca's waist and grasped her knickers and yanked them down -- I nearly screamed myself I was so shocked. Rebecca's a fine-looking girl, nearly a woman, really, and her bum was very plump and round and very, very red."

"Was she crying?" interrupted Mary.

"Not too much at that point," said Juliette. "But when he began to thrash her some more with that slipper she began to howl and sob as though she were being flogged. I think it was more her embarrassment at being slippered like a child in front of the entire class that bothered her more than the pain -- I've gotten similar treatment and to be honest, you are so frightened and ashamed you can scarcely feel the pain. It's all noise and terror and humiliation -- the pain is secondary."

Mary shook her head sadly. "God, I will never be able to do that. I'd run screaming from the room!"

"Not unless you'd want the cane from the headmaster, you wouldn't. And trust me -- you wouldn't."

"You mean you've -- you've been caned by the headmaster!"

Juliette's cheeks grew warm as she remembered her dreadful sessions with Mr Critchley's cane. She blushed vividly, nodding almost imperceptibly.

Mary was intensely impressed. "That's incredible! What was it like? Did you cry? How bad did it hurt? Did it leave marks? What did you do to get it? Do Mum and Daddy know?"

Juliette answered her sister the best she could. Though her memories of discipline at Katherine Parr weren't ones she'd have thought she'd cherish, she discovered a feeling of warmth in her belly as she spoke of them. She told Juliette the story of Emma and Deborah's house public -- as fierce a caning as she'd ever seen -- and realized, to her surprise, that the punishments were no longer sources of terror, but fascination and desire. It was strange -- the tougher the discipline the more it seemed to fill her body with a sort of contentment, a satisfaction. Perhaps it was justice, due punishment for due crime. Juliette couldn't understand it, but she sensed the same curiousity in her younger sister.

"Tell me about the slipper. I've never been slippered," said Mary eagerly.

"The slipper's a common punishment. It's used for all sorts of minor infractions. It can be used over the knickers or on the bare bum -- nearly any excuse gets you the slipper."

"What does it feel like?" Mary's voice was breathless, her eyes shining with fantastic thrills.

For a second Juliette hesitated. She was going to simply answer, a lame attempt at describing the incredible tingling burn of the leather sole of a slipper connecting with bare flesh -- when she had a better idea.

"Let me show you," she said. She got up and went into her parents' room, finding a large leather slipper that belonged to her father. She brought it back into Mary's room. Mary was sitting on the bed looking nervous.

"I- I don't know about this," she said. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to give you six with the slipper," Juliette said. "Mum's gone out so it's just us. Now bend over the edge of the bed."

Mary obeyed immediately. She was frightened but excited -- she was going to be treated like a big girl, like a girl at Katherine Parr!

Juliette carefully lifted her sister's skirt. Mary was still young, but her bum was already taking on the preliminaries of the shape of Juliette's -- round, plump, and deadfully prominent. For a second Juliette wondered what the hell she was doing -- then throw away caution and quickly tugged down Mary's white cotton knickers.

Mary's petite bottom was smooth and flawless. The skin was pale and obviously hadn't been spanked recently. Juliette tried to remember the last time she'd seen a bum that wasn't red from a spanking. She couldn't. At Katherine Parr every girl got whacked at least once a week, and most a lot more often than that. At KP, white bottoms were as rare as snow in the Sahara.

Juliette put her left hand on the small of Mary's back, pushing her firmly into the bed, causing her buttocks to arch upward. "Hold still now!" she called, and then lifted the slipper high. She didn't lift it as high as Mr Warton, but plenty high enough. It came down with a zinging WHACK! and Mary let out a gurgled half-choked cry of pain.

"Owww!" she yelled, wiggling frantically. "That really hurts!"

"Of course. Did you think I wasn't serious about this? You are going to receive a full slippering, just like at KP. Now keep your voice down, and stop wiggling, or I will have to add extra!"

Mary calmed down slightly, but only until the slipper crashed into her left buttock. Then she howled and thrashed for nearly a minute. Her once-perfect bottom now bore two distinct pink oval blotches on each cheek. Juliette watched her struggle, admiring the quivering bottom until it stopped moving, and then she raised the slipper again.

WHACK!

"Ooohh!"

WHACK!

"Ahhhhh!" Mary began to cry, tears spilling onto the bedcover. She didn't try to get up, but her hands went back in an attempt to cover her stinging bum.

"Enough of that!" scolded Juliette sternly, slapping Mary's hands away. "That's an extra two!"

"Noooo!" moaned the desperate younger girl, but Juliette was not to be moved. At Katherine Parr most teachers would have doubled the punishment, or worse.

The slippering was a relatively minor one, according to Juliette's high standards, but Mary certainly felt thrashed when it was over. She had screamed and cried a great deal throughout the spanking, but when it was over she stop sniffling and said it really hadn't been that bad. It was just that once she started crying she couldn't stop -- and that first blow had caught her by surprise. She had never known a little slipper could hurt so bad.

Mary stood before her full-length mirror, ruefully rubbing her red buttocks. She held her skirt up so she could see the punished area clearly. Her knickers had been kicked God knew where.

"Very entertaining," said a dull male voice.

Both girls froze.

"I wonder what Mum and Dad would think of my sister spanking my other sister..."

"Dominick!" roared Juliette, turning. He stood in the doorway, a monstrous smirk on his face. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to see darling, innocent Mary get the slipper from her cruel older sister."

"That's not what happened at all."

"Oh really? You think Dad will care about that?"

Juliette shuddered. Dom was right -- her father would not accept any excuse for her spanking Mary. He'd surely use his belt for something as serious as this. Unless Dom didn't tell, of course.

"What is it you want?"

Dominick grinned. "What makes you think I want something?"

"Come on -- enough of the games. Out with it."

"All right. I get to slipper the both of you: two dozen for you, Juliette, and six for little Mary, for being an accomplice."

The arguments and protests were feeble and pointless. Juliette knew even as she tried to change Dominick's mind that she had already agreed to his plan in her heart. A couple dozen with the slipper -- even from a bastard like Dom -- was nothing to a Katherine Parr girl. Juliette felt more sorry for Mary, who was about to get a lot more than she had wished for. But she'd be at Katherine Parr in a year anyway -- might as well get her in shape for it.

So Juliette quickly found herself in the position her sister had recently vacated -- thrust over the end of the bed, face pressed against the covers, her naked bum sticking up behind her. Dominick expressed amusement at the condition of her rear -- the skin was still pink and a little warm, and there was a dark red spot from where the hairbrush had contacted multiple times.

The dozen with the slipper weren't the worst Juliette had taken -- but they ranked up in the top ten. Dom struck hard and fast, spreading the sting all around Juliette's shapely bottom. Her eyes were burning and she was breathing hard as she stood to let Mary take her place. Now she had to watch her sister get thrashed, knowing she had another dozen coming.

"Go stand in front of the mirror and hold up your skirt."

Juliette obeyed slowly. She wasn't that embarrassed -- he'd just seen her red bottom anyway -- but it was humiliating standing like that and waiting for more.

"No, your whole skirt -- the front too."

"What?"

"You heard me. Do it, or I'll give Mary a dozen!"

Seeing the terrified look on Mary's face, Juliette knew she had no choice. She bit her tongue to restrain her tart reply and lifted her entire skirt up, exposing everything in the mirror before her. Now Dom was getting his wish to see her naked. From his position behind her and off to one side, he could see both her spanked bottom and the soft nest of hair between her legs.

"Much better," grinned Dom, and he began to spank poor little Mary. Juliette could see them in the mirror, Mary's petite bottom becoming a fierce magenta, her cries of pain echoing throughout the room. Dom was not being gentle at all, but whacking his sister as hard as he had Juliette.

When it was over, Juliette hugged her crying sister and quickly got back into position. "Get it over with," she growled. Dominick obliged, bringing down sizzling crack after sizzling crack and Juliette gasped and clutched at the bedcover for support. She managed not to cry out, but tears dribbled out of her eyes despite her desire to show her brother he couldn't make her cry.

"Now five minutes in front of the mirror for both of you," Dom said with an evil grin. "Skirts full up."

The freshly-spanked girls didn't even bother to argue. They'd get their revenge some other day, some how.

Chapter 06: Just a Flower

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

After their slipperings, neither Mary or Juliette felt like discussing the punishments of Katherine Parr any more. Juliette decided she wanted some fresh air and a new perspective, so she went on a walk around the neighborhood.

The area hadn't changed much, though were some new faces she didn't recognize, and Mr Pierson had finally gotten his house painted. Rounding the first corner, Juliette saw Mrs Reilly working in her garden. She waved eagerly, and headed over.

She remembered the old woman fondly: always willing to listen to any childhood distress, always with a tall glass of fresh milk and cookies hot from the oven.

"Hello, Mrs Reilly!" Juliette shouted.

"Eh? Who's that?"

"It's me! Juliette!" The girl ran to the white wooden fence that framed the old lady's yard and hopped over it, running to embrace her friend.

Mrs Reilly stood slowly, using a sturdy white cane for support. "Eh? Juliette? Is that you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm back for the holidays."

"Teach nothing at that school, did they?" growled the old lady. Her expression was stern and irritated, puzzling the happy Juliette.

"Why, yes, I mean. I mean, they taught me all sorts of things."

"Teach you to step on flowers?" The woman pointed with her cane at the flower bed that ran along the fence. A large pink rose lay crushed in a footprint. Juliette was mortified.

"Oh, dear! Did I do that? I'm terribly sorry, Mrs Reilly. I didn't see it at all. I was just so excited to see you again. It's been a long time."

"Sorry, eh? Yes, you kids today are always sorry. Never take responsibility for anything, just apologize and run off. Why in my day my father would have taken the garden rod to me, he would've. Six of the best. That teaches a girl respect. Bah, you kids today -- go on, get out of here!"

The woman waved her cane at Juliette.

Juliette stared at the old woman in horror. Mrs Reilly had always had a heart of gold -- what could have caused her to become so rigid? Surely she hadn't forgotten all the times Juliette had helped her with her garden, watering her plants and weeding for free.

"Mrs Reilly, please. I said I was sorry. It was an accident. Besides, it was just a flower."

It was the wrong thing to say. The old woman's face darkened. "Just a flower? Just a flower!" she roared. "I'll give you just a flower!" She waved the cane and stepped toward Juliette. "I ought to thrash you--"

"Please, Mrs Reilly, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean that the flower wasn't valuable. I know how hard you work on your garden. Please don't be mad at me. I couldn't stand to have you mad at me! Please!"

With that, Juliette began to cry. Mrs Reilly watched her for a moment, then sighed. "All right, child, I can see you meant no harm. I forgive. Now go away and don't step on anything on the way out."

But Juliette couldn't leave, not when the woman was still angry. "Please, Mrs Reilly," she began, scarcely daring to believe what she was saying. "Please, go ahead and thrash me. I deserve it, I know. If my father was here, he'd do it himself."

"You're talking nonsense, child. Now go away."

"No, ma'am. I deserve to be punished. You -- you may cane me, if you'd like."

"Cane you! My child, have you any idea of what you are saying?"

"Yes, ma'am. I want you to cane me. Six of the best, like you said."

"A caning! Why, a slender girl like you couldn't take six strokes of the cane."

"Oh, but Mrs Reilly, at Katherine Parr girls get caned all the time. I've got the stick myself, on several occasions." _And a lot more than six strokes,_ thought Juliette, but she didn't dare say that outloud.

"It is a strict school, then?"

"Most strict."

"You, I suppose, are punished regularly."

"When I deserve it, ma'am."

"Hmmm. Well, I agree you deserve something for trampling my flower bed, but I'm not sure a caning is proper."

"But you said--"

"I know, I know. My own father didn't hesitate to the use rod. But my mother -- may she rest in peace -- taught me that the hand can be just a serious a weapon. So I'm going to give you a choice: three strokes with the cane, out here in the garden, or you can come inside and I'll take you across my knee for an old fashioned spanking. And not a quick one, mind you -- it will be a thorough session."

It took Juliette longer to pull down her knickers and bend over Mrs Reilly's lap than to make the decision. The garden was in plain view of the street, and while the neighborhood wasn't especially crowded, who knew who'd be passing as Juliette bent over for the cane?

Mrs Reilly had learned her mother's lessons well -- she spanked like an expert, bringing tears to the tender Juliette's eyes within minutes. As promised, it wasn't a mild spanking, nor a short one. It lasted nearly a quarter of a hour, and when Juliette was finally lifted to her feet, hugged, kissed, and led into the kitchen for fresh cookies and milk, she could scarcely stop crying -- both because Mrs Reilly had reverted to her former kind-hearted self and because the spanking was finally finished.

It was a teary-eyed Juliette that left the cozy little cabin. Juliette way her way out the proper way -- through the gate -- and she was extremely careful to not step on any plants along the way.

Chapter 07: A Walk in the Park

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Though grateful for Mrs Reilly's kindness, Juliette was glad to escape the woman's unpredictable presence. She continued her walk, this time cutting across the park. Several younger boys were kicking a football as she passed. The ball overshot its mark and flew into the trees near Juliette.

Running to retrieve it, Juliette dribbled it into kicking position and then fired off a terrific long-range kick. She was showing off to the boys, of course, and that made her feel brazen. Unfortunately her aim was as terrible as her judgement -- the kick went wild, the ball swerving along the side of the field and crashing into an elderly couple sitting quietly on a bench.

The old man flew into a fit born of seventy years of rage. "Bloody fools!" he screamed, snatching the ball and holding it. "Why don't you brats look where you're playing!"

"But it wasn't us!" cried the nearest boy. "It was her -- that girl over there."

"You there! Little girl! Come here. You need a good thrashing," yelled the old man. "Come here!"

Going pale, Juliette turned and ran. She ran out of the park and up the street, ignoring the feeble shouts of the old man and the little boys. Her bottom burned as she ran -- not so much from Mrs Reilly's attention as from her embarrassment at being treated like a little girl in front of all those little boys. Why, if she'd gone over to that old man he'd most likely have bent her over right in front of them. She could imagine them laughing as he took down her knickers and -- oh, she couldn't bear to think of it.

Seeking to escape possible pursuers, Juliette ducked into the little shop at the corner. She remembered the shop well, having visited it often in her younger days. The owner's name was McBride -- a big man with fiery red hair. He stood behind the counter as she entered.

"Good day, Mr McBride," she said.

"Why, if it isn't little Juliette Maison! All grown up, too. Look how fine you look. Turn around, let me see the rest of you. Why, you have become a woman, I dare say. Quite a pretty girl. Driving the boys wild, I dare say."

Juliette blushed and shook her head. "Not really, sir. My father says I'm too young. Besides, Katherine Parr is a girls school."

The man tilted his head sharply. "You are attending Katherine Parr? They have an excellent reputation. I only hope you are staying out of trouble. I hear they know how to handle discipline."

Juliette's blush advanced to the next level. "Er, yes, they are strict," she murmured, wondering why it seemed she was forever discussing her school punishments. "Uh, I just came in to get a soda," lied Juliette.

"Certainly. In the back, like always. Help yourself."

Juliette hid herself behind some shelves and sighed. Adults discussed punishment so casually, as though it were an abstract thing. To Juliette's throbbing backside, however, punishment was as real as breathing.

Grabbing a cold bottle from the cooler, she popped the top and took a long sip. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was until the lie had escaped her lips. She headed to the counter, fishing some change from her pocket. As she paid for the drink, she noticed McBride giving her a strange look.

"What is it? Isn't that enough?" she asked, suddenly worried prices might have increased. She had brought very little pocket money with her.

"What about the candy?"

"What candy?"

McBride sighed. "Look, Juliette, I know you're a neighborhood girl, a good Katherine Parr girl, but I've got a business here -- I can't go letting one girl break the law and turn in others. Now just pay for the candy and I won't say another word."

"But I didn't have any candy."

The big man's jaw worked and his eyes narrowed sharply. "Give it up -- I see everything in the mirror, you know." He gestured at the angled mirror in the far corner of the shop. "I saw you pinch that sweet."

Juliette gasped, horrified. "I didn't pinch anything!"

"Now you are making me angry. You expect me to just overlook it because you're an old friend, back in the neighborhood -- well it's not going to work. I remember you well, you little scamp -- you and your friends stole nearly half my sweets over the years. Not this time, little girl. I'm calling the police!"

"No, don't do that!" cried Juliette. The image of her father picking her up at the police station terrified her. "Please, Mr McBride, I swear to you I didn't pinch anything! You can search me."

"Ha! I watched you _eat_ it, girl. That's pinching just as much as taking it out of the store. But searching's not a bad idea -- you may have more on you I missed."

"Please, promise you won't call the police. I'll pay for the sweet. I didn't take it, but I'll pay for it. I just need to run home for my money."

"That's a likely story. I've heard that before. But you had your chance to pay for it. It's too late now. You lied to me and deserve some serious punishment -- some Katherine Parr girl you are. A thief and a liar, is that what they teach you to be there?"

Everything seemed against her, and Juliette began to cry softly. McBride didn't say anything for a minute, then he went to the front of the store and locked the entrance. He turned the "Open" sign to "Closed" and returned to Juliette.

"Come on, lass. I've got an idea."

Juliette followed the man blindly, sniffling and miserably wondering what he had in mind. She found out soon enough. In the stock room behind the store she watched him take a long leather strap from a hook on the wall.

"Ten strokes," he said softly. "Twelve if you don't cooperate. Or I can just telephone your father..."

Juliette gulped and looked at the man. His arms were thick and bulged with muscles. From the way he held the strap he'd had some experience swinging it -- Juliette ruefully realized she was in for a serious punishment. But the alternative wasn't worth considering. She nodded.

"First I need to make sure you haven't stolen anything else," said McBride grimly. "Remove your clothes."

"But sir--"

"Would you like twelve instead of ten?"

Juliette shook her head. With a deep breath, she began to strip. It was hard work with the man so close and watching her every move. She felt graceless and nervous, fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. Somehow she managed, however, and soon she stood wearing only a crimson blush, a pitifully small pile of clothes next to her.

McBride examined the clothing carefully, then walked slowly around her, instructing her to keep her hands above her head. "Well, I guess you didn't pinch anything else," he said, his voice disappointed. "Ten strokes is all you get."

"And you won't say anything to my father?"

"This is between you and me," said McBride. "Now bend over that wooden stool over there. Keep your bum nice and high for the strap. If you get up I'll add extra."

Groaning with despair, Juliette lowered herself over the stool. It was old and creaky, and Juliette held on for dear life. Her backside was definitely too prominent for comfort, but she couldn't let that bother her. She gritted her teeth and prayed it would be over quickly.

It was not. McBride delivered each stroke deliberately, drawing out the punishment as long as he could. After each blow he walked around the stool, studying her from all angles, watching her eyes water, her small breasts quiver with fear, her lips tremble. Juliette couldn't believe how much the strap stung -- every stroke seemed to sear through her flesh like hot metal. And after the blow her skin burned and tingled as a thick welt grew. Soon Juliette was sobbing and begging McBride to hurry it up, that she couldn't hold her position much longer.

"Stay down, girl, unless you want extra," said McBride as he circled, showing no hurry whatsoever.

Twice Juliette thought she'd lost it and stood, the pain was so bad -- but somehow she'd gripped the stool legs and remained bent over, her body writhing in agony. She could scarcely believe it when McBride announced that she'd taken stroke ten and her punishment was at an end.

Tears pouring down her face, Juliette struggled into her clothes.

"And what do you say?"

Juliette gulped and nodded. "Thank you for my punishment, sir."

"Excellent," said McBride with a broad grin. "I'm glad to see that Katherine Parr hasn't lost its touch." Juliette gave him a small smile as she waited for him to unlock the outer door so she could leave. He winked at her as she departed. "My wife went there, you know."

Chapter 08: Hooligan

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

"Are you a hooligan?"

Juliette paused at the stern voice. She turned and saw a bobby was heading her way. "Sir?" she asked.

The man glared at her. "I asked you a question, girl. Are you a hooligan?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Then what are you doing wandering about aimlessly!"

"Uh, nothing. I'm just out walking."

The man pointed down the street with his billy club. "Did you steal something from McBride's market?"

Juliette gasped. "No, sir."

"Really? He tells me different. He said he had to 'deal' with you."

"Oh, but sir--"

"Yes," said the bobby thoughtfully. "Perhaps I oughta run you in. Take you down to precinct, see what we can dig up on you. You hooligans nearly always have a record."

"But I'm not a hooligan. I didn't steal anything!"

The man sniffed suspiciously. "Aren't from around here, are you? Think you can just come into our little neighborhood and act the hooligan--"

"But I live right down the street!"

"Oh really? Then how come I don't recognize you."

"I've been away at school," cried Juliette desperately. "I go to Katherine Parr. I'm just home for the holidays."

"Katherine Parr, eh?" The man's expression softened. He beamed with delight. "I'm planning to send my daughter there, when she's old enough. They give you the stick?"

"Sir?"

The bobby rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The cane, girl, the cane! Got wax in your ears?"

"Oh."

"Well? Did they?"

"Uh, yes sir."

"How many?"

"How many?"

"Yes! How many did you get? Six? Eight? Perhaps even ten, for a naughty hooligan like you!"

"Uh, usually six or eight, sir. Depending on the misbehavior. Sometimes ten or twelve, and even more for serious cases."

The bobby nodded, pleased. "Good to hear someone out there takes discipline seriously. Most of these schools today are run by former hooligans -- it's no wonder they abolished corporal punishment and let the brats run wild and free."

Juliette wasn't sure what to say, so she just nodded.

The bobby approached her. "Turn around, girl. Show me your little bum, there. Got any stripes?"

Juliette felt her cheeks become rosy. She shook her head. "I-- I haven't felt the cane in a couple weeks, sir."

"Really? Well, perhaps we can repair that. Come with me."

Trembling with nervous terror, Juliette followed the man up a deserted alley. She wanted to run, but the man was the law -- he'd catch her for sure, and then perhaps he'd make good on his threat to take her to the precinct. She couldn't stand that idea.

At the end of the alley was a door. The bobby rapped twice on it with his club. The door was opened by a pretty woman with pale hair and bright green eyes wearing a navy blue nightgown. Underneath, it was obvious, she wore little else. She blinked at the bobby in surprise.

"Why Joe, it's not Thursday, is it? You're not scheduled until four o'clock--"

"Can it, girl. Not here for that. Just gotta borrow that cane of yours. Got a little discipline problem..."

The woman looked at Juliette with such tenderness that for a moment Juliette thought she'd found an ally. The woman smiled. "Oh, she's a dear, Joe." She spun Juliette into a quick circle. "And such a nice bum, too. Perfect for the cane."

"But ma'am," moaned Juliette frantically, "I didn't do any--"

"Shhh," whispered the woman, placing a finger upon her lips. "You be a good girl and be quiet, unless you want me to practice my stroke on your bum, too." She pushed Juliette toward a corner. "Get in position, young lady. I'm sure a naughty girl like you has tasted the cane before. I can see it in your eyes."

Thus Juliette found herself bending over for cane, hands stretched to grasp her ankles tightly, though she wasn't exactly sure why. Adults had told her to, she supposed, and Katherine Parr girls always did what one was told.

The bobby named Joe appeared a moment later, flexing a long brown cane between his hands. He seemed quite pleased with himself, whistling a little tune. He gave the woman a quick kiss on her cheek and grinned at the beautiful teenager patiently awaiting him.

"Gorgeous lass, isn't she?" he winked at the woman. "Can't wait to see how she marks. Lift up her skirt, luv."

The woman obeyed instantly, raising Juliette's skirt and flipping it over her back so only her petite white knickers showed. The woman grew excited. "Oh, Joe, let me have a few. I just love knickers, you know."

Joe consented, and handed the woman the cane. She took a couple quick practice strokes in the air, reminding Juliette to stay in position "like a good girl." Juliette shuddered and waited. There was a faint whoosh of air and loud snap and Juliette felt a terrible sting settle across her bottom. It bristled and grew deeper as time passed. After her recent experiences at school, the pain was quite familiar to her, so familiar it almost felt pleasant, like she was home again.

After the woman's second stroke, however, Juliette decided she'd had enough of familiar. At least at Katherine Parr one knew why one was being caned. This was crazy. Juliette had never even seen this woman before. "Oooch!" she cried at the third stinger, wiggling her burning bum and wondering how long this was going to last.

"Okay, that's enough," said the bobby.

"Oh, please... just one more!" begged the woman.

"Well, don't wear her out -- I want my turn," said the man grumpily.

The woman made her last stroke count. It was a choice strike right at the base of Juliette's knickers, part of the stick striking bare flesh. Juliette hissed violently and shook her head to shake off the pain. Tears were glistening in her eyes as the woman passed the cane to the bobby.

"All right, little hooligan," said the man. "Let's see how you take a real caning!" He motioned to the woman. "Take down her knickers, luv."

Juliette groaned as she felt the woman tugging at the waistband of her underwear. But her experience at school had taught her not to protest or interfere -- she could only weep sadly as she watched and felt her last vestige of protection drop to her ankles. Her bum was an open target now, the bobby an eager sharpshooter.

"Woooweee," whistled the man. "Looks like she's already had a lesson or two today. Did you daddy give you a spanking this morning?"

"But what a fine bum!" cried the woman. "So round and plump -- she can take plenty more. Give it to her, Joe!"

The man obliged with a vengeance. Juliette stood in teary-eyed dread as he thrashed her backside soundly. Each stroke sounded like a rifle to the poor girl, her stinging bottom quivering and dancing with agony. The bobby paused at six and debated with the woman as to whether six was enough.

"My six and your four's a total of ten," he said thoughtfully.

"Go ahead and give her a full dozen," said the woman eagerly. "My strokes don't really count, you know. They were nothing but a warm up."

To Juliette's surprise it was the bobby that came to her defense. "I don't know, luv," he murmured. "She's taken it quite well. Seems to me you're a bit too eager."

"You brought her," said the woman. She giggled. "Can I help it if I like to see a beautiful bum thrashed?"

The bobby shook his head. "Hooligan, I'm going to give you two more strokes -- that'll bring the total to an even dozen. Does that sound fair?"

At this point Juliette didn't really care as long as the torment ended and she escaped this evil pair -- she nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir!" she shouted.

The bobby complied, his last two zingers causing tears to rain onto the carpet. But at least it was over. Juliette raised her body upward, surprised at how stiff she felt. Surely it couldn't have been more than five minutes in the that bent-over position, but it felt like a year. She carefully pulled her knickers up over her gloriously tender bottom.

The bobby was staring that woman with greedy expression. "You know, luv, I think perhaps, as long as I'm here, you need a little reminder yourself."

"Oh! Oh dear," said the woman in mock terror. She could hardly stop smiling as she took Juliette's place, bending over and grasping her ankles. "He's a monster," she whispered to the teenager. "Once a week isn't enough for him any more."

Juliette inched toward the door as the bobby pulled up the woman's nightgown, revealing a tremendous bottom, huge and white, though Juliette recognized several faint lines from recent discipline. The bobby wasted little time but began to thrash the woman. His strokes were much harder than those he'd used on Juliette, and the girl gulped in terror at the realization that she'd gotten off easy.

Slipping outside, she ran up the alley and out into the main street. Her bottom tingled and ached, though the warmth was rather pleasant, now that she wasn't being thrashed. She thought about the strange bobby and the obedient woman -- she didn't look like a Katherine Parr girl. Why had she obeyed the man and stepped forward so willingly for a thrashing? Adults didn't make any sense sometimes.

10>

Chapter 09: Sisters in Trouble

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

When Juliette got home that evening, she immediately went and took a long bath to soak her throbbing bum. She couldn't believe what a bizarre day she'd had -- everyone she met seemed inclined to put her over their knee for something or other. Juliette prayed she wouldn't have another day like that for a very long time. The last thing her bottom needed was more spanking.

During her bath her sister Mary came in. She appeared to be upset, crying a little. Juliette asked her what was wrong.

"Dominick spanked me," she said.

"What? You mean this morning?"

"After," said Mary glumly, lifting her skirt so her sister could see her red, well-spanked rear end. "About a half-hour ago. He said this morning's spanking wasn't hard enough and I needed a warm up."

"That little brat!" spat Juliette in fury. "We're going to get him!"

Juliette had planned to mention the incident to her father after supper, but to her astonishment Dominick brought up the matter himself during the meal.

"Say, how come Juliette gets to spank Mary and I'm not allowed to? I'm fifteen, you know. I should be old enough to discipline my little sister if she needs it."

Mr Maison put his fork down rather firmly. He stared at Dom and then at Juliette. "Juliette spanked Mary?" he asked.

Juliette felt her face growing hot. She stared at her plate of food. Suddenly she didn't feel like eating.

"Is that true, honey?" asked her mother.

"Well, not exactly. You see I--"

"Didn't I catch you slippering Mary this morning?" asked Dominck. Juliette turn to her brother but before she could answer he'd moved on. "And again this afternoon? I bet Mary's bottom is blister red!"

"Juliette!" exclaimed Mrs Maison in a shameful tone.

"Speak up, daughter," said the man of house, glaring at his daughter.

"It's not true! Okay, yes I did slipper Mary this morning, but I never spanked her this afternoon. Dom did that -- Mary came and told me. She showed me her bum, too. It _is_ all red!"

"You slippered your sister?" growled Mr Maison.

"Well, she asked me to. We were talking about school and she wondered what it felt like and I--"

"And you thought you'd show her. Is this true, Mary?"

Poor Mary looked like she wanted to vanish into the floor. She nodded her head softly.

"All right," said Mr Maison firmly. "Dinner's over for the two of you. Upstairs, to your rooms. I will deal with each of you in a few minutes."

Stunned, Juliette and Mary slowly left the table. Juliette desperately wanted to protest and argue her case, but she saw her father's face and knew that nothing she could say would disuade him while he was in that mood. She'd wait until he came upstairs. Then he'd understand.

Dominick smirked as the girls passed on their forlorn trip to their rooms. "I'm confused," he said boldly when they were gone. "So Juliette _isn't_ allowed to spank Mary?"

"Eat your dinner," said Mrs Maison.

"Because Juliette told me you'd given her permission and all--"

"Eat your dinner!" roared Mr Maison, his face a dark thundercloud.

"Nobody tells me anything around here," Dominick mumbled, sticking a piece of potato into his mouth. But he could hardly stop grinning as he chewed.

Mary sat on her bed, wondering why she was in trouble. Had she been wrong to let Juliette spank her? It hadn't seemed wrong at the time. Well, okay, a little wrong, sort of dangerous and daring, which made it rather exciting. Was that wrong, though?

By the time her father came in, Mary was near tears. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she moaned, and ran and hugged his leg.

"There, there," he said gently, helping her to the bed. They sat together for a little while without saying anything. "Did you really ask your sister to spank you?" he finally asked.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

Mary shook her head. "I don't know. We don't get spanked at school, and next year I'm going to Katherine Parr and everyone tells all these horrible stories of beatings and canings and slipperings -- I guess I wanted to find out if it was real. Juliette said she'd show me."

"But you didn't ask her to show you."

"Well, not exactly."

"You just didn't stop her once she got started."

"She said my experiences at Katherine Parr would be easier if I knew what I was getting in to."

"Ah," said Mr Maison. "Well I dare say that's true. But it is my responsibility as your father -- and your mother's as your mother -- to prepare you for Katherine Parr. It's is _not_ Juliette's job. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now to seal the lesson, I'm going to spank you myself. If you are going to your sister for spankings, it's obvious I've been neglecting you."

"Oh, no! I'm fine, really. I don't need another spanking!"

"Don't argue with me, girl. Come on, across my lap. Let's get those knickers down."

"Daddy, please!" cried poor Mary, her hands going back to protect her delicate bottom.

"Do I need to fetch the slipper?"

"No!"

"Than remove your hands like a good girl."

Tearfully, Mary brought her hands forward. That left her bottom completely naked. She shivered in terror.

With a loud slap Mr Maison hand descended and Mary screamed. Her bottom, already pink from Dominick's slippering, throbbed violently. Again and again the hand came down, faster and faster. Mary howled and kicked, wiggling across her father's lap, desperate for any method of stopping the onslaught of pain.

But there was nothing but louder, harder slaps. Nothing but an endless assault to her tender derriere. On and on and on it went, spank after spank after spank. Mary ran out of tears, then lost her voice. She could only moan and wiggle slightly. The skin of her buttocks and thighs had thickened so she scarcely felt the spanks, but it was the fact that the spanking wasn't stopping that terrified her. How much longer could this last? She had never imagined a person could live through this much pain.

Suddenly the spanking stopped. Just like that. Mary couldn't stop crying she was so surprised and relieved. She sobbed uncontrollably while her father comforted her.

"There, there. It's all over now. Now you've taken a real spanking, not a plaything from your sister."

"Oh, Daddy, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay. Go to the corner and wait for me. I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't you dare touch your bottom. And keep that skirt up! If I catch you with your bottom covered you're getting double what I just gave you."

Mr Maison left then, Mary standing in the corner weeping, her skirt lifted high so her red and blistered bottom was on display.

In Juliette's room, Mr Maison wasted no time ordering Juliette to prepare for some thorough punishment.

"Remove your skirt and knickers and get ready for the thrashing of your life!"

"But Daddy--"

"Silence, girl, unless you want me to fetch the cane and deliver a half dozen strokes BEFORE we begin your punishment?"

Juliette definitely did not want that, and therefore wisely remained silent, removing her clothing as ordered.

"Now fetch my slipper," her father ordered when she was ready.

Wincing already, Juliette hurried out the door. When she returned with the large leather shoe, she was shocked to see her sister standing in the corner, her skirt up showing off a well-spanked bottom.

"What is _she_ doing here?" she asked her father resentfully.

"I told her to come in here." He held out his hand for the slipper, which Juliette handed over reluctantly.

He turned to Mary. "Come over here, Mary. Sit on the bed."

Her eyes red from crying, Mary obeyed. Sitting, even on the soft bed covers, wasn't enjoyable, but she managed.

"Now Juliette: over her lap."

Juliette's eyes went wide and she immediately opened her mouth to protest.

"Tut tut!" cried her father, cutting her off. "Say one word and I'll fetch my cane!"

Blushing with shame, Juliette obeyed. She was larger than her little sister, but there was plenty of room on the bed. She stretched herself out, her bare bottom right in the middle of Mary's lap.

Mr Maison handed Mary the slipper. "Now I want you to give your sister a long, hard slippering. Don't hold back unless you want a taste of the slipper yourself."

Mary, shocked at this development, didn't know what to think. She took the slipper from her father and stared at her sister's bare buttocks. The skin was pink and marked in a few places -- obviously Juliette had been punished recently. Mary thought of her own bottom, blistered and sore, tingling right now as her and Juliette's weight pressed her against the bed, and vowed to dish out as good as she'd received.

SPLAT! She brought the slipper down hard, full across Juliette's right cheek. Juliette sucked in her breath and tensed. SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! Mary was quickly getting the hang of it. She alternated cheeks and spanked with the farthest edge of the slipper to maximize the sting. She spanked the rounded sides and bottom of Juliette's beautiful bum, jealous of the curves her own bottom had only begun to develop.

After a dozen on each cheek, Juliette's backside was fiery red and looked rather sore. She wiggled and hissed at every spank, the pain intense. Mary glanced at her father, but he nodded for her continue. So Mary spanked Juliette again and again, the heavy slipper drawing forth a deep purplish-red from Juliette's abused flesh.

"Oh, please!" gasped Juliette finally. "Enough!"

"Keep going," Mr Maison said to Mary. "I'll tell you when to stop."

With a shuddering sob, Juliette endured another onslaught of stinging pain. Like Mary's spanking, Juliette's lasted a long time. It seemed to last forever. In fact, Juliette began to panic, wondering if the pain would _ever_ stop. Surely her bottom couldn't take any more! It was so sore already....

And then -- it was over. A sobbing Juliette made her way to the corner, and a satisfied Mary was sent to her own room.

After a half hour in the corner, Mr Maison told Juliette to turn around. When she did her relief became terror, for her father was holding a thick leather strap!

"Oh, God, no!" she cried. "Please, Daddy, don't punish me any more! I'll be good, I swear!"

"Over the end of the bed."

"Daddy, please!"

Mr Maison's face went dark. "That's it, Juliette. I've warned you twice already. Go get me the cane."

Juliette had never seen her father so grave. Weeping with fear, she raced downstairs, not even caring she was naked from the waist down, and took the long, whippy cane from the umbrella stand by the front door. She hurried back to her father.

"Grab your ankles. If you rise, we'll start over."

The six excruciating cuts were pure hell for Juliette to take. Twice she nearly rose the pain was so fierce, but somehow she managed to stay in position through sheer force of will.

"Now the strap," said Mr Maison. He waited while a trembling Juliette bent over the end of the bed. Her bottom was a deep crimson and covered with a number of puffy weals.

The strap, Juliette discovered, was actually a tawse with two tails. At each stroke, the tails split and spread, striking two portions of her bare flesh at once. The leather was heavy and the action fierce -- Juliette could hardly stop screaming. Every stroke seemed to sear the skin right off. Her father gave her ten strokes across her wealed bottom, and followed that with two dozen on the back of her thighs. Juliette could hardly blubber she was in so much pain.

"You've got two left," said Mr Maison sternly. "These are for your bottom. I want you to arch up and ask for it when you are ready. Keep your bum nice and relaxed so you'll feel the sting properly."

Moaning at the indignity of it, Juliette arched her back, thrusting her petite rear upward. "Please, Daddy," she begged, "May I have my last two strokes?"

"Certainly, my dear."

And Mr Maison obliged, delivering two of the hardest strokes yet.

After the comparative neglect of her bottom for her thighs, the shock of the pain was nearly more than Juliette could stand. She shrieked and kicked in agony, sobbing into her pillow, and begging her father for forgiveness. Mr Maison, after Juliette calmed down slightly, bent forward and gave her a tender kiss.

"That's a good lass. Well taken. Now you go ahead and get ready for bed."

11>

Chapter 10: Grooming Lessons

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

The next morning as Juliette showered, she was astonished to notice that the marks on her bottom weren't as noticeable as she'd imagined. The redness from the slippering had faded, and other than a few sore and blistery areas, there was hardly any sign of the strapping. Only the cane lines were still prominent, thin ridges of swollen flesh that ached whenever she moved. She knew from experience they would fade in a few days, but for today, at least, sitting and walking wouldn't exactly be pleasant.

After breakfast, Juliette's mother suggested a shopping trip in the afternoon. No one else -- just the two of them.

"We'll visit Mrs Merchard, the dressmaker, and I think it's time we got you some new shoes."

Juliette was overjoyed at how kind her mother was being, especially after her recent behavior problems, and agreed immediately. It had been a while since she'd gotten a new dress. With her body maturing rapidly, lately, Mrs Merchard would have to make a number of adjustments.

Juliette spent the morning reading and watching the telly -- both while lying on her belly -- and then took a long bath before lunch. After lunch she and her mother departed for their shopping trip.

The first stop was at the shoe store. It was frightfully busy and Juliette and Mrs Maison had to wait. Juliette found sitting unbearable, but when she tried to stand, she found it impossible not to fidget. Twice her mother scolded her, and finally insisted she sit down and stop fussing.

Juliette sat sullenly and tried not to notice one of the clerks. He was a handsome young man not far from her age. She suspected he might be college age. She secretly wished he would wait on them, but she knew her mother was waiting for Mr Clark, the owner. She didn't particularly like Mr Clark -- he always treated her as if she were still three years old.

Finally the crowd dispersed somewhat and Mr Clark came over and greeted Mrs Maison warmly.

"Oh! Don't tell me this is the little Juliette! My, you are turning into a beautiful young lady!" So saying, Mr Clark gave Juliette's cheek a pinch and he ruffled her hair. She glared at him, her distaste undisguised.

"Say hello, Juliette," reprimanded her mother.

"Hello, Mr Clark."

"Turn around and let me look at you."

Juliette stood and spun, her petite dress twirling around her. She hated being put on show like this.

"Oh, you've certainly grown, my dear. You've certainly grown! School has done wonders for your figure. They are feeding you well at Katherine Parr?"

"Yes, sir."

"And plenty of discipline for that backside of yours, eh?"

Juliette flushed and didn't answer, staring down at the floor.

"And how are your marks? You are doing well?"

A poke from Mrs Maison encouraged Juliette to answer. "As best I can, sir."

"Ah, very good, very good. Now, shall we check the size of your feet?"

Juliette was forced to sit again, while Mr Clark slipped off her shoes and carefully measured her bare feet. Twice he tickled her, laughing at her distaste as though this was a delightful game.

"You have lovely feet, young lady," he said several times, his hands rubbing her soles and wiggling her toes. Juliette rolled her eyes and tried to act uncooperative, but a sharp nudge from her mother required her to say, "Thank you, sir."

Mr Clark continued his inspection. He frowned suddenly.

"Tut tut! Naughty girl!" said Mr Clark. "When was the last time you trimmed your toenails?"

"Last week, sir."

"Early last week?"

"I suppose. I don't remember exactly."

"Ah. Shame on you! You must care properly for your feet. These are the only ones you have, you know. People think that just because feet are so far away from their face they don't need attention." Mr Clark clicked his tongue and glared at Juliette. "If you were my daughter you'd be over my lap for a dose of the slipper!"

Mrs Maison bent down to stare at Juliette's feet. "Why Juliette! Your nails are dreadfully long indeed. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You apologize to Mr Clark."

"But Mummy --"

"Now, girl! And while you're at it, why don't you ask if if he'd be kind enough to fetch his slipper and give you a little lesson so you won't forget proper grooming for your feet."

Juliette gasped in horror. Surely her mother couldn't be serious! But gazing between the faces of the two stern-looking adults, Juliette felt a sinking feeling in her belly. She licked her lips.

"Mr Clark, I... I'm terribly sorry I forgot to clip my toenails."

"And?" Mrs Maison tapped her foot impatiently.

Juliette gulped. "If you'd be so kind, Mr Clark, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind... fetching your slipper and giving me a little reminder?"

Mr Clark beamed at the girl. "You want me to slipper you just like I would my own daughter?"

Of course that was the last thing in the world Juliette wanted, but she nodded. "Yes, sir. If it's not too much trouble."

"Very well. But understand that I slipper my daughter's bare backside and I won't make an exception for you."

Misery upon misery! Juliette looked at the floor and nodded. When she looked up, Mr Clark was gone.

He was back in seconds, holding a large leather-soled slipper in his right hand. He seated himself on a little footstool. "All right, young lady. Come across my lap."

Juliette blanched. "Right here? Can't we go in back?"

"Absolutely not!" declared Mrs Maison. "If you're old enough to be naughty in public you're old enough to be spanked in public."

So Juliette found herself two feet off the floor, lying across the lap of Mr Clark, the shoe store owner. He wasted no time lifting her dress and folding it over her back. The cane marks on Juliette's bum tingled as a cool breeze passed over her bottom and bare legs.

Mr Clark placed a palm on Juliette's bottom. "You are obviously a very naughty girl, young lady, so I'm going to make this a slippering you won't forget in a long while." With those words, he drew down the girl's white panties to her knees.

"I see you've been recently punished. I'm glad someone cares enough to discipline you properly."

"Yes, her father had to strap and cane her last night," said Mrs Maison. "She's a very naughty girl."

"I know how to repair that," said Mr Clark lifting the slipper high above his head.

"Owwww!" yelped Juliette as the slipper bit into the tender flesh of her right buttock. The slipper went up and crashed down on her left cheek and Juliette had to bite her lip not to scream.

The sound of the slipper smacking bare flesh in the small shoe shop was deafening. Juliette stared at the carpet in shame, her face burning. She didn't dare look around. She _knew_ everyone was staring at her. Even the hunky college clerk, most likely, was watching her being spanked like a child.

But Juliette wasn't given much time to feel sorry for herself, for the leather sole of the heavy slipper was smacking her naked buttocks at an amazing rate. Mr Clark certainly knew how to slipper a girl! He alternated cheeks and rained down the blows at what had to be close to sixty a minute. Juliette couldn't help but kick her legs and wiggle out of sheer terror at the awesome pain she was feeling. Her bum felt like it had swollen to double size. Every stroke seemed to find fresh flesh. Juliette didn't know how it was possible. Tears flooded down her cheeks and she sobbed uncontrollably.

Only when several minutes had passed and Juliette's bottom was well roasted did Mr Clark stop. He arched his eyebrows at Mrs Maison. "What do you think? Is that enough?"

"Yes, I suppose. It will at least tide her over until we get home and I can give her a proper spanking with my hairbrush."

So Mr Clark released the sobbing Juliette, who quickly got to her feet and pulled up her underwear. She sat on the chair and covered her face with her hands, too embarrassed to look around at the other customers who would have had to have been blind and deaf to fail to notice her spanking.

"Good, very good," said Mr Clark. "Now, what are we looking for today?"

Mrs Maison explained and Mr Clark nodded. He led the two of them to a display and pointed out several selections he felt might appeal to them, and indeed, despite her shame, Juliette was impressed with his taste. She selected a couple and her mom suggest another pair, and Mr Clark went off to fetch the samples from backroom.

"I hope you are happy with yourself," said Mrs Maison. "I'm quite ashamed of you!"

Juliette was wise enough to not say anything, and when Mr Clark returned, she quickly selected on a pair of shoes without the traditional fuss and debate. She was going to be a perfect little girl for the rest of the day. The last thing she wanted was another spanking!

12>

Chapter 11: By All Means, Go Right Ahead

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

After the shoe store, it was time to visit Mrs Merchard, the dressmaker. Mrs Maison had made an appointment for 3 o'clock. They arrived a few minutes early, which meant more sitting for poor Juliette.

At five after a young girl not much older than Juliette led them into the back room. Mrs Merchard was there, along with another girl just slightly older than the first. Both were obviously students training in the dressmaking trade. Juliette noticed that the second girl, who was busy working a sewing machine, appeared to have been recently crying. Her eyes were red and once she moved a hand across her face as though wiping away tears.

But Juliette had no time to ponder the mystery for Mrs Merchard immediately ordered Juliette to strip.

"Come on, girl, snap-snap! Hurry, hurry. We don't have all day."

Blushing, Juliette slipped her dress over her head. Wearing only her bra and panties, she waited patiently while Mrs Merchard and her mother spoke in low tones in one corner.

"What is this? Does your daughter not understand instructions?"

"Juliette! Mrs Merchard asked you to remove your clothes. She cannot measure you dressed like that. Now hurry up and obey her promptly!"

Horrified, Juliette realized she was to lose even the protection of her undergarments. Blushing, she removed her bra and panties. She knew that Mrs Merchard could not fail to see her red bottom. Even the assistant girls would see and know that poor Juliette was still spanked like a little girl.

"My, my," exclaimed Mrs Merchard. "You do have quite a daughter, Mrs Maison. She is gorgeous! So petite, yet look at the roundness coming in. She is a gem, a doll!"

Mrs Merchard made Juliette raise her arms above her head and admired the girl's torso. "Look at these breasts! So fine, so feminine. Just a hint, the subtle swelling of womanhood, but such fine, delicate nipples. And these hips! Marvelous, so sleek and pure."

As she spoke, Mrs Merchard touched Juliette all over. She pinched the girl's breasts and tweaked her nipples. She patted her stomach and slid her hands down Juliette's waist. She even bent forward and studied Juliette's crotch, commenting on the tuff of hair developing.

"Now turn around, girl, let's see your bottom. Oh, my! I see she's been well-spanked! And recently, too. Are you a naughty girl?"

The sudden silence after all the woman's chatter made Juliette realize she was expected to answer. Blushing furiously, she nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"I detect the slipper and a bit of the cane. Is that right, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ah, I but I do know my marks. I just had to give Cindy a dozen a few minutes ago. Show us your marks, dear!"

The girl at the sewing machine looked up in horror. She stopped the machine and stood.

"Come on, come right over."

The girl approached. Juliette was certain now that the girl had been crying. Tears glistened in her eyes right now! She was very pretty, a tall, heavily-built girl, with large, round breasts and bottom. Turning her backside to the audience, she bent over and lifted her skirt up.

Juliette gasped. Cindy wore no undergarments. The smooth, pale flesh of her buttocks were immediately on display. Criss-crossing the skin were a dozen thick weals, most blood-red, but several were a dark purple. To poor Juliette, it looked like the beating from hell. It made the slight welts from her caning seem like a children's game.

"At least once a week Cindy here needs a good caning," said Mrs Merchard calmly. "Gloria gets by with a couple a month." The girl who'd let Juliette in stood nearby, her face flushing bright red.

"Of course both of them regularly get the slipper and the occasional strapping," continued Mrs Merchard. "I have yet to find a girl that doesn't need a good dose of discipline on a regular basis."

Juliette shuddered, feeling the woman's hand on her bottom as she talked. Mrs Merchard was squeezing the delicate flesh and patting it lightly.

"My, what a wonderful bum you've got, girl! Absolutely superb! You are a lucky one, to be so gifted." Mrs Merchard bent Juliette over and planted a heavy hand right in the middle of her backside. "My, I do so want to take you over my knee just to see how well a bottom this plump and firm takes a spanking!"

Mrs Maison smiled. "By all means, go right ahead."

"Oh, do you mean it? You wouldn't mind?"

"Certainly not. Save me the trouble. God knows the little vixen deserves it."

Beaming, Mrs Merchard dragged Juliette to a chair and sat. She pulled the girl across her wide lap and placed her hand on Juliette's bare bottom.

"No, you can't! Please, Mummy! You can't let her! What did I do? I didn't do anything! Not another spanking, oh, please!"

"Be quiet, girl, or I'll fetch my cane!"

"But I didn't do anything!"

"You spoke when I told you not to. So now I'm going to spank you. Is that enough of a reason?"

Of course it wasn't, but Juliette had little choice in the matter. She lay silently as the big woman began to slap her ass hard and fast. At first she was surprised at how much it hurt, then she realized it wasn't as bad as the slippering. The pace was a bit slower, and the dressmaker paused frequently to admire and feel Juliette's quivering buttocks. These breaks gave Juliette time to rest and recover from the pain, but the humiliation was constant. It was made worse by the woman's comments, for she kept a chatter going as she spanked, remarking on how Juliette's bottom bounced for that last swat, or how jealous she was of the girl's firm flesh. The talk only served to heighten Juliette's awareness of that part of her anatomy, and she felt her face grow hotter and hotter with every spank.

In front of Juliette, poor Cindy was still bent over, her naked, striped bottom on display. As Juliette suffered at the hand of Mrs Merchard she was forced to stare at Cindy's thrashed buttocks through her tears and pray that she didn't do anything to merit a caning like that!

Finally, it was over. Juliette next had to suffer the indignity of standing naked and crying, her buttocks throbbing, while she was treated as nothing more than a mute mannequin. Mrs Merchard and Mrs Maison chatted as though Juliette wasn't even there, only noticing her when they had to scold her for fidgeting or yelping at being stuck with a pin.

Twice Mrs Merchard gave Juliette's bottom several sharp slaps, and at the end, when all the measurements had been taken and all the arrangments made, she put Juliette across her lap for one last dose. She told Juliette that she was too cute to resist. Juliette didn't protest even though no reason was given for the spanking. Fortunately, it was a quick one.

13>

Chapter 12: Fidgeting

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

That evening Mrs Maison reminded Juliette that she had a hairbrushing coming. Juliette was distraught.

"Oh, please, Mummy! Not another spanking. I had two today, and they hurt oh so much! Please!"

Mrs. Maison finally relented. "If you want, I'll spank you tomorrow instead."

"Oh, thank you, Mummy!"

Thus Juliette woke the next morning to find her mother standing at the foot of the bed, tapping a large wooden hairbrush against her palm. It proved a fateful beginning for the day.

Juliette had been excited because she'd received a telephone call from her best friend Millie -- whom she hadn't seen at all since transferring to Katherine Parr -- and had been invited to spend the weekend at her house. Mr Maison had left the decision up to his wife, who'd said Juliette could go.

But now Juliette, instead of waking up to a day of excitement and fun with old friends, found herself totally naked and in the familiar face-down position across her mother's lap. The hairbrush went up and down, Juliette's mouth opened and her eyes squeezed shut, and her legs kicked violently. It wasn't a long spanking, but the hairbrush did a terrific job of bringing fresh color to her buttocks, as Juliette noted ruefully in the bathroom a few minutes later. The marks from her caning were almost gone, and even the redness from yesterday's spankings had faded, though the soreness had not. Of course now there were thick red blotches from the back of the hairbrush and Juliette dreaded the long bus ride across town. She showered extra-long and soaked in the tub for a half-hour to speed her bottom's healing.

At least, she thought with relief, this weekend she would escape all this bottom-smacking she'd been subjected too since returning home.

By mid-morning Juliette was dressed, her bag packed, and her bus fare in her hand. She said good-bye to her mother and eagerly set off. She had only a short walk to the nearest stop, and while she was early, she did not sit on the provided bench. Predictably, the bus arrived six minutes late.

There were few people on board, so Juliette had a seat to herself. Millie lived on the other side of town, so with all the stops, it would take an hour or more to get there. The seat was hard and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, this particular bus seemed to have no shock absorbers. Every jolt, every bump, every creaking, shuddering stop, sent shivers of pain through the poor girl's backside. In ten minutes of sitting she was in dire discomfort, and after a quarter-hour she could hardly stand it.

Finally, in desperation, she stood and went to the aisle to stand for the rest of the trip. An elderly man sitting nearby gave her a strange look and asked if she was okay.

"Oh, fine, sir. It's just I've been sitting for hours. My legs are cramping."

The old man seemed to accept this explanation, but the driver did not. At the next stop, he whistled for Juliette to come up to him.

"You'll have to sit, Miss. Standing's not allowed if there are seats available. Safety, you know."

"Oh, but sir!"

"It's policy, Miss. Please return to your seat."

Miserable, Juliette sat. She fidgeted. She tried kneeling on her seat, but that got her a stern glare from the driver. She tried several other seats, but none were designed for comfort. Soon the other passengers were making snide comments and even shouting reprimands. Juliette finally stretched on her belly, and though that bent her knees awkwardly, it was more comfortable than sitting.

Then was then the shadow fell across her. She opened her eyes and saw the feet of the bus driver in front of her. She craned her neck to look up at him.

"There are rules of proper conduct on this bus," snapped the driver, "and you seem indent on violating every one of them!"

Before Juliette could move, the man placed his left arm square in the middle of her back, pushing her against the seat. His right hand flipped up her skirt, exposing her favorite sky-blue panties. Without hesitation he delivered a rapid series of sharp smacks to her bum. The spanks echoed loudly in the enclosed bus, and Juliette heard the other passengers cheering and encouraging the driver.

"Give it to her good!"

"Serves the brat right!"

"Add five for me!"

Juliette couldn't believe it. She tried to rise up but was pinned by the driver's arm. The spanks really hurt and showed no sign of stopping. "Owww!" she moaned suddenly, wiggling frantically and thrusting her hands back in a vain effort to protect her hindquarters. "That hurts! Oh, please stop! I'll be good. I promise I'll be good!"

But the driver gave her an additional dozen or so hard slaps before he paused. "Are you going to sit up properly like a good girl?"

"Yes, sir!"

"You aren't going to constantly jump from seat to seat and disturb the other passengers?"

"I won't sir, I promise."

"If I have to come back here again, I daresay there'd be a passenger who'd produce a hairbrush or a leather shoe for me to use on your naughty bum!"

"Oh, no, sir! I'll be good. Really I will!"

"Up, Miss!"

Sheepishly, Juliette returned upright, smoothing her skirt across her lap. Her bottom burned against the hard seat, but there was no way she was going to fidget now. The stern look from the bus driver told her that would be a mistake she'd regret.

14>

Chapter 13: Ghost From the Past

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

The rest of the bus trip passed without incident (except for discomfort), and Juliette got off at her stop with tremendous relief. It was a ten-minute walk to Millie's and Juliette was looking forward to being with her old friend.

As she started off, however, she noticed a man watching her. He'd been on the bus, too, she realized. There was something familiar about him. He was tall and thin, rather stern-looking... Mr Davidson!

She realized with a shock that he was one of her grade school teachers. She hadn't seen him in years. It was obvious he remembered her, however.

"My dear Juliette Maison!" he exclaimed. "You've grown up physically, if not in behavior, but I'd recognize you anywhere."

"Mr Davidson. How are you, sir?"

"I am doing well. Retired last year. It's just me and the missus, now. I rather miss my students, but I taught for a good many years."

"Did you... uh, see..." Juliette blushed and couldn't finish the sentence.

"Indeed I did, girl. In fact, that's why I got off even though this isn't my stop. I thought that bus driver had the right idea, though his implementation was flawed."

"I'm sorry for all the fuss--"

"I'm sure you are, my child, but I think you still need a lesson." The gentleman seated himself on the bus stop bench and patted his lap. "Come on, let's get this over with."

"Oh! But Mr Davidson--"

"Tut! Tut! None of that, girl. You remember how I used to spank you when you were my student?"

Indeed, Juliette remembered. A day without a sound bottom-spanking from Mr Davidson was a supreme accomplishment.

It was therefore like a living flashback as she dutifully went across his lap. She felt like an eight-year-old as her skirt was lifted and -- gasp! -- her panties lowered.

"You know as well as I do that a proper spanking is always administered on the bare bottom," said Mr Davidson. "Ah, I see why you were uncomfortable sitting!"

"Oh, please, sir. Not too hard!"

"Nonsense, child. A spanking does no good unless it's a good one. And this shall be one of my best!"

The old teacher's words proved true as he made the bus driver's smacks seem like love pats.

Mr Davidson, Juliette remember bitterly, was one of those teachers who spanked by time, not the number of swats. Back in school the longest she'd received had been an unendurable three minutes of hell; her usual was a minute or two.

But this time Mr Davidson went right passed the two and three minute marks as though they weren't even there. At five minutes he showed no signs of stopping and Juliette began to get worried. Her bottom was really sore and she was sobbing and begging him to stop. Seven minutes passed. Eight. Nine. And still his hand kept slapping and slapping her bare bottom. At ten she thought it was over, but he kept on. Surely this had to end soon!

"One minute left," said Mr Davidson finally, pausing briefly, his hand resting on Juliette's blazing rear end. She moaned and wiggled her hips.

"Please, no more!"

"One minute to go. And these are going to hurt!"

And did they. Juliette had thought he'd paused to give her a break but it had been to give _him_ a rest. Rejuvenated, the pace of that last minute was nearly double the previous rate, the spanks harder, and Juliette's howling louder.

She was sobbing when finally released and sent on her way.

"Stay out of trouble, little girl, or I shall find you!" called out Mr Davidson.

15>

Chapter 14: Girlfriends

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Millie was delighted to see Juliette. She had arranged for two of her friends, Mandy and Jessica to also stay over. Juliette had known Mandy slightly, but Jessica was new, though she seemed like a nice girl. She was pretty and petite, and a little shy.

The four of girls together, however, were the opposite of shy. They drove Millie's parents mad with their giggling and shouting and screaming. Fortunately, arrangements had been made for the girls to sleep on mats down in the cellar, so in the evening, they were left alone to tell stories and gossip. After all, Juliette hadn't seen Millie in nearly a year -- there was a lot to catch up on.

Of course the girls wanted to know all about Katherine Parr, if Juliette had boyfriend, and what it was like attending such a fabulously strict school.

"Do they really use the cane there?" asked Jessica, her brown eyes bashful but showing a real interest.

"Do they ever!" Juliette moaned. "You don't know the half of it."

"Tell us!" cried Mandy, clapping her hands eagerly.

"Did _you_ get the cane!" asked an astonished Millie.

Reluctantly, but with a touch of childish pride, Juliette nodded solemnly. Then she had to tell tales of horrid beatings and ghastly slippering and strappings. The girls watched with eyes wide with terror and mouths gone dry. Juliette exaggerated things slightly, making the beatings a little more frequent and a touch more harsh than perhaps they really were, but she delighted in the awesome respect the girls gave her.

"Gosh," said Millie when Juliette was finished. "My father bought a leather tawse from Scotland a couple months ago. It hurts like the devil! I can't imagine the cane being worse!"

"Oh, the tawse is nothing," shrugged Juliette proudly. "I can take a tawsing without even flinching. But the cane is absolutely unbearable."

Mandy and Jessica both flinched at her words, shuddering with fear.

"I've only been slippered a couple times," said Mandy. "And that didn't hurt very much."

"I've never been spanked," said Jessica.

"Really? How come?"

"I don't know. My Mum's threatened me a few times, but I've always tried hard to be good."

"You never get in trouble?"

"Not really." Jessica wrinkled her cute little nose. "There have been a few things I've done for which I probably _should_ have been spanked... but I was never caught."

"Perhaps we can fix that," said Millie.

Jessica looked at her friend in puzzlement. "What do you--"

Before she could finish, Millie had winked at Juliette and the two of them each grabbed one of Jessica's arms. They dragged her forward, stretching her out on her belly on the mat. Her petite nightie didn't quite cover her round little bottom, which peeked out under the tails. Her white panties were tight across the cheeks, which jiggled slightly as she wiggled.

"Hey! Let me go!"

"No, I think it's time you got that spanking you deserved!" ordered Millie sternly. She lifted Jessica's top, revealing the younger girl's chubby bottom completely.

Jessica gasped. She was too shocked to say anything.

"What a cute bottom!" cried Juliette. "It looks like it's begging to be spanked."

"No! No!" hissed Jessica. She struggled to get up, but she was pinned by two girls. Mandy, a mischievious grin on her face, began to toy with Jessica's panties. She ran her fingers underneath the elastic, drawing cries of terror from the subdued girl.

"No! Nooooo!"

"Oh, yes!" said Mandy. "A good _spanking_ is just what you need!"

"I can't believe you've never been spanked," murmured Millie.

"Oh, I have! I have! I was just kidding," moaned Jessica desperately.

"Oh dear. Lying. Now that's *very* bad," Juliette said solemnly. "I think that merits the _slipper_!"

Jessica's cries were ignored and her panties were tugged downward, exposing twin white mounds of silky smooth skin. Millie immediately set to the task of pinkening those globes, raining down smack after light smack. After a couple dozen, Mandy took a turn, and then Juliette. Jessica was weeping quietly, wiggling slightly, but no longer thrashing and screaming.

"That's a nice warm bottom," said Millie, placing a palm against Jessica's right buttock.

"Oh please, no more!"

"Shhhhh. You still have your slippering for lying coming. Don't make me add extra for uncooperation."

Juliette found a slipper nearby and handed it to Millie. "How many are you going to give her?"

"I don't know. What's the norm at Katherine Parr?"

"At least a dozen, I'd think."

"Very well. A dozen from _each_ of us," said Millie, and Jessica began to howl in protest.

Millie lifted the slipper when Mandy stopped her. "Wait! This isn't how they slipper at Katherine Parr, is it?"

"No," said Juliette. "Slipperings are always given with you standing up, bent over and grabbing your ankles. Usually you have to count the spanks and ask for each one."

"We've got to make it authentic," said Millie. She tugged at the sniffling Jessica. "Come on, up and in position. If you cooperate, the slippering's all you'll get. Otherwise... I can fetch my father's leather tawse!"

"God no!" gasped Jessica. "Please, I'll be good! I promise."

"All right. Bend over and grab your ankles for your slippering."

"You must count each one and say, 'Thank you, Miss Millie,' afterwards," added Juliette. She faced Millie. "Give her six on each cheek and alternate after each spank."

"Okay. Are you ready for the slipper Jessica?"

There was a muffled sob and then little Jessica choked out, "Yes, please."

"Don't forget to count!" Millie punctuated her reminder with a full swat of the slipper against Jessica's right buttock. The girl screeched and stood up.

"Ouch! That _really_ hurt!"

"Tut tut," murmurred Millie. "You got out of position. That one doesn't count."

"Oh, please!" moaned Jessica.

"Would you rather have the tawse?"

Jessica quickly grabbed her ankles, mutely offering her pink bottom for further punishment. "One!" she gasped at the slipper stung her right cheek again. "Thank you, Miss Millie."

"She learns fast," giggled Mandy.

SMACK! "Oooh! Two. Thank you, Miss Millie."

On and on the spanks rained down. Poor never-before-spanked Jessica took a dozen from Millie and then a dozen from Mandy. She was really crying when Juliette took over the slipper. Her bottom radiated a deep red.

"Please, not too hard," she begged.

"Nonsense!" cried Juliette sternly. "You've been a naughty girl and deserve a sound spanking. Isn't that right?"

All hope lost, the girl slumped forward in despair. She nodded sullenly. "Yes, Miss Juliette," she whispered.

Juliette rubbed the sole of the slipper against Jessica's crimson left cheek. "You've got a dozen stingers coming," she said in her best impression of a strict schoolteacher. "I hope this teaches you a good lesson."

"Oh, yes, Miss!"

"Good." Juliette pulled the slipper back as far as she good and brought it forward with all her strength. It snapped across the naked girl's left buttock with a fierce CRACK! and Jessica nearly stood up. She howled for four or five seconds before regaining her composure.

"O-one," she moaned. "T-t-thank you, M-miss Juliette."

SMACK! WHACK! CRACK! came the slipper. Each spank landed on the opposite cheek, sending poor Jessica into wailing misery. Her buttocks were a vivid, deep red. Juliette laid most across the outer sides of her bottom where few spanks had been delivered. The pale flesh there quickly developed a healthy pink glow.

"Oooooh... twelve. That's twelve! I'm done," cried Jessica, weeping with relief as she tried to rise.

"She didn't thank you!" said Millie. "Give her two extra!"

"Nooo!"

"Back down," ordered Mandy, pressing the girl down.

Juliette grinned at her friends and quickly delivered her hardest spank yet. It caused Jessica to yell for a good ten seconds, before collapsing with exhaustion.

"Is she counting?" asked Mandy.

"Yesss!" hissed Jessica quickly. "That was thirteen! Thank you, Miss Juliette!"

**CRACK!**

"Owwww!" sobbed Jessica. "Fourteen. Fourteeeeeen! Thank you, Miss Juliette."

"Good," said Millie. "You may get up now."

"How was your first spanking?" asked Mandy, her eyes burning brightly.

"It hurt!" said Jessica, rubbing her buttocks vigorously. "I never want to get spanked again!"

"That's nothing compared to what happens at Katherine Parr," said Juliette. "What you got is barely a warm-up!"

Jessica's eyes swelled and she shook her head violently. "Then I'm glad I don't go to Katherine Parr!"

16>

Chapter 15: To Be Fair

(*****, M/f, Severe, Schoolgirl discipline)

The Flogmaster's homage to Rosewood, in honor of his amazing 'Emma' series. (Approximately 23,191 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

Mr Yander sat back in his chair and puffed on his pipe as he listened to the girls playing outside. His eyes were half-closed, his mind imagining.

"Say," he said nonchalantly, "how long has it been since we had to spank Millie?"

"Must be a month at least," answered his wife. She didn't look up from her knitting.

"About time she had another, wouldn't you say."

"Couldn't hurt, I warrant."

"My thinking exactly. And as long as she's getting spanked, I suppose I'll just have to spank all the others. You know, to be fair."

"Of course."

There was moment of silence. Mr Yander cleared his throat. "I was thinking of trying out that new tawse. I've only had to use it that one time..."

"Such a shame to let it hang in the closet unused," murmurred Mrs Yander.

"Exactly."

"And I could finish them up with a hairbrushing before bed."

Mr Yanders beamed. "Excellent idea, my dear!"

"After all, who knows what naughty ideas that Juliette Maison is corrupting our sweet daughter with."

"You're absolutely right. We need to stop them before they get started." Mr Yanders put down his pipe and got to his feet. "I'll get the tawse."

"Why not let Millie fetch it, dear? It's much more imposing that way."

The big man grinned at his wife. "You're a right cruel woman sometimes!"

Mrs Yanders blushed slight and shook her head. "No, I just remember what it was like to a be a little girl, sent off to fetch the cane."

"I just might have you do that," whispered Mr Yanders as he opened the sliding door to the back yard. Mrs Yanders hesitated for a second, her face going hot. Her husband closed the door behind him. With a deep sigh, she continued her knitting.

In the pool, the girls' play had developed into a splash fight. Juiette and Millie were on one team, while Jessica and Mandy battled from across the way.

"Take that!" shouted Juliette, sweeping her right arm and creating a large wave that threatened to engulf Mandy. The other girl saw it coming and ducked underwater. Juliette's wave ended up mostly outside the pool, splashing water across the highly polished shoes of a tall Mr Yanders standing on the edge and glaring downward.

"Millie, dear, what have I told you about splashing?"

"Oh! Hi, Daddy. Uh, I don't know."

"Splashing is forbidden! Look at all this wasted water. And my shoes! They are all wet."

"I'm sorry, Mr Yand--" began Juliette, but she was cut off.

"Millie! Out of the pool, now!"

A frightened teenage girl rushed to the ladder and climbed out, shivering in the mild afternoon sun, water dripping from her blue, one-piece bathing suit.

"You, young lady, are about to be spanked. Remove your suit at once."

"But Daddy..." moaned the girl in desperation.

"That's it! Fetch me the tawse!"

Millie's face went white with terror. She turned and ran toward the house.

"Millie Denise Yanders!" roared her father. "Did I not tell you to remove your swim suit?"

The girl froze. Sobbing, she quickly lifted the straps off her shoulders and peeled the suit off. Sliding it to her ankles, she stepped out of it.

"Good. Now fetch me the tawse and be quick!"

Naked as the day she was born, her skin glistening with droplets of water, Millie hurried into the house.

Mr Yanders turned to the other girls. They stared at him with mouths open in fear. "All right. Everybody out. You're all just as guilty as my daughter, and unless you want me to call your parents and send you home in disgrace, you'll take your strappings too!"

A coldness had descended upon the Yanders backyard. Where moments earlier four teenage girls had been laughing and giggling without a care in the world, there now stood three wet and forlorn young ladies too terrified to breathe.

The glass door slid open and a teary-eyed Millie emerged, carrying a dreadful-looking strap. Made of ominous black leather, it was a couple feet long, two inches wide, and the tail was split into two long fingers. The strap was attached to a wooden handle about six inches long. Millie held it like it was a cobra about to bite her.

"Millie, you'll go first. Come over here onto the grass."

Millie quickly obeyed, getting down onto her hands and knees. The grass was overgrown and it tickled her skin where it touched her. She waited patiently while her father stepped over her. His legs went on either side of her waist and clamped together, holding her tight. He faced her rear, which was pointed out at the other girls.

"Keep your legs tightly together," warned Mr Yanders softly.

Millie shuddered. She remembered her first experience with the tawse. She'd opened her legs slightly during one of the downward blows and a leather finger had slipped between her legs and caught her in her secret place. She'd seen stars. It had hurt so bad she couldn't stop crying for ten minutes. Afterward, there was a delicate welt there, and when she touched herself at night, the welt ached most indecently, hurting in such a vivid manner she couldn't tell if it was a good feeling or a bad feeling.

"The rest of you, remove your suits and get in line for your turn. You are each going to receive eight strokes."

There were collective gasps from all four girls. Millie felt her knees grow weak. Her first tawsing had been six strokes. She had thought she was going to die. How could she endure eight? But her friends were watching. She had to put on a brave show.

Mr Yanders pulled the tawse over his head so the leather dangled behind his back. With a snap he brought the strap forward and down, the heavy leather whipping across the bared haunches of his teenage daughter with a sound like an exploding balloon.

"Arrrrgggghhhh," moaned Millie in bitter agony, kicking her feet uncontrollably. The pain washing through her body was insane. Every nerve was on fire. She shuddered and quivered and slowly calmed down. Finally she realized the pain she felt was only a single pulsing welt across the outer edge of her right buttock. It had initially felt like all the skin on her ass had been torn off. The welt burned from the top of her butt down to the top of her thigh.

Again the tawse snapped down. Milie convulsed and struggled, but between the sturdy legs of her father, there was nowhere to go. Another snap. Now there were three distinct rivers of pain running across her right buttock.

Mr Yanders moved to the left buttock, snapping down three blows in slow, deliberate motions, moving from the outside inward. The final two he saved for the middle, bringing the heavy leather right into the young girl's bottom crack. The tender, hidden flesh burned violently and it was all Millie could do not to scream. She bit her lip and struggled, somehow holding on.

"You may rise."

Gingerly, Millie got to her feet. She could not stop crying.

"Next." Mr Yanders gaze settled on Mandy. She'd removed her bikini, but stood with her hands covering her sex and petite breasts. She trembled when she saw him looking at her. Slowly, as though her legs were trapped in quicksand, she made the short walk and knelt at his feet in the grass.

"Please..." she whispered, her voice nearly gone it was so hoarse.

He opened his legs and she crawled in, stopping when he trapped her in place. "Silence," he commanded, and she felt into incoherrent blubbering.

The awesome snap of the tawse was terrifying. Thick welts rose of unprotected flesh. Mandy screamed and shuddered, kicking violently, uselessly. Her bottom swayed and quivered, but it could not escape the strap. It whipped her mercilessly, and in precisely the same manner as it had Millie.

Jessica was next. She was crying long before Mr Yanders fixed his gaze on her. She knew she couldn't do this. She just couldn't! Her mother had never spanked her. If Mr Yanders reported her, she could escape this dreadful fate. Her mother would only cut her pocket money, not her bare buttocks.

But Jessica knew she couldn't do that. It wasn't fair to her friends. She didn't quite understand the purpose behind the whipping, but Millie and Mandy had taken theirs well. She couldn't fail them.

Slowly, Jessica knelt and crawled forward. It was like a dream. Even the pain, when it came, was distant, almost unreal. It was too incomprehensible to imagine. She'd never felt such agony. It made her spanking of the previous night seem like playful love taps, nothing more than the friendly game it had been. She felt ashamed for crying and putting on such a fuss.

This pain dwarfed all others. It just kept coming. Right buttock = agony. Left buttock = anguish. She couldn't understand it at all. How much longer could it continue?

But then there was the voice, the strong, firm -- and somehow loving -- voice of Mr Yanders, telling her that it was over, that she could rise and rejoin the others.

As Juliette watched Jessica stumbled away from Mr Yanders, clutching her bottom in agony, she knew it was her turn. The realization was like a fist to her gut. She could hardly walk. She needed to be brave. After all, this was just a little tawsing, right? Nothing for Katherine Parr girl.

In truth Juliette dreaded the tawse almost as much as the cane. Her boasting to her friends had been vainity, not reality. It was appropriate that she be found out this way. When the others saw her shouting and screaming without control they'd know she was a liar. She'd never been tawsed -- not like this, anyway.

Kneeling between Mr Yanders legs Juliette felt a strength from them. They represented reality, security, safety. Mr Yanders might cause her pain, but she knew he loved her as much as his own daughter. How many times growing up had she been over his lap, receiving his discipline, and afterwards, his hugs and kisses?

She resolved to accept her punishment with as much dignity as she could. The first stroke nearly killed her. It stung the outer edge of her right buttock, tender flesh that had barely been spanked recently, and Juliette couldn't believe how much it hurt. The second stroke was actually better, more toward the middle of her cheek where she was used to being spanked. The third one made her cry out in pain. She couldn't help herself. Her right cheek flamed with such an intensity she yelped and wiggled frantically.

Then Mr Yanders began to attack her neglected left buttock. The sting was merciless, deep and penetrating. It fought against the ache of her right side. With the sixth blow, Juliette began to howl in uncontrolled agony.

Oblivious to her distress, the tawse went straight up and came straight down -- right into the deep crevice between Juliette's cheeks. The twin fingers of sting spread outward, kissing the delicate insides of her upper thighs.

Oh, sweet pain indeed! Juliette's backside was flooded with it. It overwhelmed her. It lifted her to a higher plane of consciousness. So unaware was she that unthinkingly she separated her legs slightly, wiggling to free the incredible pain right at the base of her ass. The final blow naturally sank in deeper, entering the opening she'd so obligingly provided. The leather bit into the hypersensitive flesh of her outer lips, sending throbbing agony deep inside her. Juliette's screech was heard around the block. She bucked her back so violently that it sent the unprepared Mr Yanders tumbling.

Juliette writhed on the grass in misery. Her hands dug between her legs from the front and the behind as though she might be able to grasp and pull out the creature that was biting her so deep inside. She rubbed the affected area frantically, waves of exquisite pleasure offsetting the agony. The release was so sudden and shocking that Juliette screamed out loud, shuddering violently, and finally lying quiet.

Mr Yanders stared at her in amazement. Weakly, Juliette got to her knees. Tears still streamed down her face, but her lips were stretched into a tight smile. She blushed and looked away from the man. Suddenly it seemed hot outside and she was aware that she was naked and rolling around in the grass. The saw the pool and the water looked heavenly.

"You wouldn't mind if I went for a little swim, would you Mr Yanders?" she asked softly. "I promise not to splash."

Mr Yanders nodded his head. He sat stunned in the grass and watched as the little nymphet ran and slipped into the water. She left her swimsuit behind her.

Millie, watching Juliette, quickly joined her. She left her suit off, too. A moment later Jessica and Mandy were also in the water. The girls didn't speak, but swam quietly, letting the soothing water comfort their sore flesh.

Mr Yanders watched them for a few minutes. Then he got up and went inside. Mrs Yanders was still in her chair, quietly knitting. His eyes went to the curtain where he saw it had recently been pulled open and hastily closed.

"You were watching," he said sternly. Mrs Yanders didn't say anything, but concentrated intently on her knitting.

"I think I'll have you fetch that cane now."

The knitting stopped. Mrs Yanders looked up at her husband hesitantly. His face was hard and stern. She gulped. "Yes, sir," she whispered. She got up quickly.

"Downstairs, in the cellar, five minutes."

The End

That's it! There's no more. Though I love Juliette so much I just might write another episode or two... but if I did it wouldn't be part of this story. Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing more of nymphet Juliette!