Tales from a Spanking Shop

   
 13/12/2018    spanking

A fanciful tale of a discreet town centre shop that specialises in the provision of superlative spanking implements for very discerning ladies and gentlemen.


Tales From a Spanking Shop

Content: This is a short story featuring a fictitious shop selling a variety of exclusive spanking implements. The story is primarily MF (with an M witness) featuring the use of a school cane, and there is also an "implied" FM scene. Dr Bernie Bottomley (headmaster of renown from several of our previous stories) puts in an appearance as a prospective customer...

On a perfectly normal street, in a perfectly normal English market town, sandwiched between a small cafe and a newsagents, a stone arch opens into a cobbled avenue. Long since pedestrianised, concrete bollards now stand sentry at either end, and it provides a handy walkway from the high street to a quieter backstreet where residential begins to coexist with smaller retail. Along this route, local headmaster Dr Bernie Bottomley strolled passed a dental surgery, an electrical repair shop and a traditional gents' barber, complete with a rotating candy-stripe pole.

No shop front signage marked his destination. Just a simple brass plaque in the centre of the door that read "Excelsior Emporium" and the legend, "acta non verba" engraved beneath in smaller italicised letters. Beside the ceramic doorbell, a still smaller plaque advised that visits were by appointment only. Instinctively he glanced at his watch, reassuring himself that he had arrived exactly at the appointed time.

Lifting his arm, he found that his right index finger was pre-empted on its route to the doorbell by a sharp metallic buzz as the electronic lock released the door and he was greeted by a young man quite formally attired in slim fitting, pinstripe trousers that broke gently onto black leather shoes. His light athletic frame was perfectly complimented by a tailored white shirt and black waistcoat. As if to contradict his youthful appearance, he sported a short and carefully groomed beard, and a neat plastic name badge on his chest read simply, "Thomas".

"Mr Burns is expecting you Sir," he began, inviting Dr Bottomley into a plushly carpeted showroom where a glass-topped display table ran the full length of the far wall.

"...ensure the best presentation wrapping please Miss Tipton, and the customer would like the item added to her monthly account." And with a polite nod of greeting in Bernie's direction the young lady took an unseen item, contained within folds of black velvet, and disappeared through an ornate archway to a side room that was partitioned by a heavy curtain, so long that it draped onto the floor. Soft classical music drifted into the room before being muffled as once again the curtain was drawn shut.

"I'm delighted that you've decided to visit in person," Mr Burns began, shaking Dr Bottomley's hand with a friendly smile. "Miss Tipton has already laid out the two items you wished to view."

To one side of the glass display table, perfectly centred across a wide, rectangular felt pad, lay a pair of very old-fashioned school canes, the curve of their handles laid in opposite directions and they were labelled as a "senior dragon" and a "junior kooboo". To the accompaniment of Mr Burns's informative and enthusiastic commentary, Bernie began to examine them in turn.

"I see you've noticed the fine surface finish... and I'm sure you'll agree the colouring is really quite beautiful... notice how the curve of the handle compliments perfectly to the slight natural curvature of the rattan... the density and balance ensures their springiness is kept exceedingly lively... perhaps just a brief demonstration?"

Dr Bottomley's reverie whilst he measured the weight and feel of each school cane was immediately broken by Mr Burns's use of the word, "demonstration".

"A demonstration?" he queried, unable to conceal the surprise in his voice.

"Naturally Sir. We wouldn't expect our customers to commit to such an important purchase following a mere visual inspection - that would never do." And turning toward the curtained off side room he called, "Miss Tipton, do you have a moment please?"

And turning back to his customer with a, "May I?" he took the implements gave each a preliminary swing, observing the responsive flex and hearing the satisfying whoosh as the pliant rattan canes cut easily through the air.

"I'm available Mr Burns," came a meek voice from the edge of the room, "but if you remember, I was just assisting..." and then, suddenly remembering their policy of total privacy, discreetly clarified, "our previous customer. I can send Sophie through if that would be satisfactory?"

"Of course," Mr Burns cordially replied, "how inconsiderate of me. Yes, if you would please ask Miss Bennett to come through and assist for a few minutes."

The curtain parted once more, revealing twenty-one year old Sophie Bennett who entered the showroom with an easy elegance and looked very tall as she approached, in spite her low kitten heels. A black and grey knitted tunic dress in a broad gingham check accented her hips and bottom and to Bernie's eye it seemed as though the hem of the dress was somehow drawn inwards, as though it desired to hug her beautifully slender thighs. The modestly round neckline gave nothing away, partly shrouded as it was by her tumbling chestnut hair, but the clingy fabric equally could not distract from the swell of her pert breasts and slender waist.

"If I could impose on you Miss Bennett, our customer would like to see these two products demonstrated." Turning back to Dr Bottomley he stated, "I normally suggest two strokes of each will give you a very fair indication of their performance."

"The usual procedure Sir?" Sophie asked, a little nervous, and yet clearly accustomed to this routine.

With a nod from Mr Burns she slipped off her shoes and stepped out into the centre of the room, carefully bending forwards and grasping the backs of her knees. She remained motionless as Mr Burns slowly raised her dress, exposing first the intricate lace of her black stocking-tops, then the pale skin of her upper thighs, and finally the almost sheer fabric of her black panties. Only when she felt the first delicate tap of the cool rod against her bottom did Bernie suspect he detected a slight flinch of apprehension.

"We call this first implement our Junior Kooboo," Mr Burns introduced, the pale cane still lightly aiming, gently tapping. It bisected a line across the rounded curves of Sophie's bottom, just barely touching the lower edge of her knicker elastic, which tapered off tantilisingly into the shadow of her crotch.

Dr Bottomley hardly dared to breathe as he watched Mr Burns's skilled arm draw back, and then with a deft uncoiling of tension in his forearm and wrist, the whippy cane almost whistled through the air before coming to a cracking impact across Sophie's delicately poised backside.

A sharp intake of breath and a stilted cry of "ow!" was followed by a visible stiffening of her posture and a jerk of her head that momentarily flung her wavy hair upward, before it settled once more onto her downward tilted shoulders.

"Once more Miss Bennett," Mr Burns declared, almost simultaneously delivering a second stroke to her already stinging bottom. This time the "ow!" was a little louder, a more visible shudder running through her fine, slender figure. Dr Bottomley saw a momentary whitening of her knuckles as she gripped more tightly onto the backs of her knees and obediently maintained her position. A rapid clenching and a wriggle of her pert bottom plainly indicated the sharpness of the sting that had momentarily shot through her cheeks.

Almost as if watching in slow motion, a pair of horizontal red stripes began to rise into view across her behind. Stepping back, Mr Burns exchanged the canes between his hands, the darker and lightly speckled cane now being laid ever so softly exactly halfway between the two red tramlines that he had so recently drawn across her otherwise pale, rounded bottom. "And so we move onto our second demonstration item, which we refer to as our Senior Dragon."

Was that another slight flinch from the stalwart Miss Bennett? Dr Bottomley had little time to consider this before, with the most careful of precisely duplicated motions, Mr Burns repeated his application of the pliant school cane to the softly presented bottom. This time the whoosh was a little deeper, the flex slightly less discernable, and the crack of impact took on a more resounding tone.

Sophie's heels remained together, but she sprang upright with a squeal of surprise and with fingers rigidly clenched, both hands shot back towards the deeply penetrating sting that had suddenly filled her throbbing buttocks!

And then, quite suddenly, it felt as though time had frozen.

Her hands, only inches from her bottom stopped in mid-air, her fingers spontaneously flexing as the hot sting swelled, filling her bottom. And yet, she steadfastly refused to break disciplinary protocol by rubbing her bottom before the final stroke had been administered. Almost hypnotised by the ritual, Dr Bottomley looked on in admiration as Miss Bennett slowly bent back into Mr Burns's prescribed position. From his vantage point, a darker, deeper red stripe was already forming, dead horizontal and precisely between the two existing stripes.

"Very good Miss Bennett," Mr Burns said levelly. "Just one more."

This time he waited much longer, allowing Sophie to regain some degree of composure before concluding his ministrations with a final thwack of the senior school cane across her now quite furiously smarting behind.

Again there was the squeal of surprise, but this time more measured, and the shock of the impact did not cause her to deviate from her hands-behind-knees posture. Another stripe, this time another inch below the previous one, and her poor bottom felt as though it were ablaze.

"As you can see, two very fine implements! Okay Miss Bennett, thank you very much for your assistance."

Only as she stood and straightened her dress was Dr Bottomley able to turn away from the sight of her very fine bottom and back to Mr Burns. "Indeed," he replied. "I rather think that they will take a most valuable place in my collection. I'll take both please."

"A very astute decision if I may say so," Mr Burns complimented him. "If I could ask you to accompany Miss Bennett through into our stock room, she'll ensure they're wrapped for you very discreetly."

Taking the two school canes in one hand and eagerly massaging her burning cheeks with the other, Sophie led Dr Bottomley through the curtained arch and into the stock room packing area.

As they left the room Mr Burns looked up to see his assistant Thomas trying to catch his attention from the entrance doorway.

"Our next customer Sir. It's Ms Lawrence from the Moorside Ladies College," Thomas announced.

"Ah yes, please show her through. Ms Lawrence, I'm so pleased to see you again."

Ms Lawrence struck a very fine figure in a light grey tweed suit, her skirt falling just below the knee. Tights that were so dark they almost appeared black were coordinated with the accent details of the pockets and lapel of her jacket, and the lapel was cut into a wide 'V' that exposed her tight fitting blouse, giving Mr Burns an eye watering glimpse of her quite enviable cleavage.

With a rather formal handshake he greeted her and led her to another area of the rear display table. On a folded rectangle of black velvet, another school cane lay. This model was the colour of burnished mahogany and with a mottled, somewhat smokey quality to its surface texture. He handed the fearsome instrument into the accomplished hand of Ms. Lawrence.

"Our Victorian Governess cane," he announced with pleasure. "A superb example of our craftsmanship if you'll permit me to say so. Thomas, please come and assist for a moment. I believe Ms Lawrence will certainly be wanting to test-drive this prospective purchase."

With a nervous glance at the very imposing figure of Ms Lawrence, Thomas stepped into the centre of the room, and obediently assumed the time honoured position...


Notes

The impulse for this story came from a reading of Chapter 10 in The Female Disciplinary Manual, discussing use of the cane in their "Wildfire" universe. They initially suggest 4 categories of cane: Nursery, Junior, Senior and Disciplinary. But the chapter goes on to expand this into almost infinite variations, when you begin to consider the nuances of material (rattan comes in many forms), and then you have its diameter, its density, weight, length, flexibility, and even the ways in which it is prepared and treated.

In drawing their analogies between a school cane and a fine wine or single malt, it occurred to me that just as a specialist wine merchant could advise and tailor a customer's selection down to a particular vintage, so too could a disciplinary expert assist with a choice of implements.

Whilst a specialist outlet such as the fanciful "Excelsior Emporium" might seem far fetched, if you are seeking a purveyor of very authentic and high quality disciplinary implements, we can highly recommend Ouch UK - and bear in mind that they do deal in rattan, as well as leather!





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