Story from New Blushes Vol.2 No.3
Recruit For The Club
Seventeen-year-old Debbie Lanford stuttered, 'I... I can't. I mean I've never...'
She was standing red-faced and trembling in the next-door neighbours' lounge. The Hollings. In front of Mr Holling who was sitting in the big armchair. Mr Holling was smiling good-naturedly. But he had just told her to take her knickers down. And then get across his lap. He was going to spank her bare bottom...
And in spite of that smile he meant it. 'Come on,' he urged. 'Or it won't be just a spanking. It'll be the tawse. That does sting rather. Would you rather that.'
She shook her head. Her blush deepening, if that was possible. As her hands reluctantly moved to slide up under her short skirt.
Mr Holling said, 'That's a good girl.'
* * *
The house next to the Hollings had not been vacant for long; hardly surprising as this was an attractive leafy middle-class estate in a pleasant market town within easy commuting distance of London. The newcomers had moved in two days ago. They were called Lanford, Steve and Jane, and seemed about the same age as Carl and Frances Holling who were in their late thirties. Carl had noted with approval that Jane Lanford was a good-looking, shapely blonde. And also there was a teenage daughter, about the same age as their own daughter Liz who was 17. That to Carl Holling was just as worthy of note as the attractiveness of her mother.
Carl Holling was not the only adult male on the estate to have noted that the new arrivals had a nice-looking teenage daughter. It would have been observed especially by others with daughters of about that age. Members of what was known as The Club. It was of course a very confidential club.
One of them, Ron Greenling, had happened to be in the corner shop at the same time as Carl yesterday morning, Sunday. There had been a discreet exchange. Outside and away from the possibility of being overhead, Ron was eager for news. Carl said her name was Debbie and he could confirm that she was joining the local school, which their own daughters attended. That was the extent of his current knowledge.
'But don't worry, I'll be working on.... er.... matters just as fast as I can.'
Ron said, 'Good! She's nice, isn't she! And I'm sure definitely in need of a little you-know-what. I can scarcely wait!'
Carl of course would be the one to progress the situation. He was the next-door neighbour but not only that, he was a writer working from home and thus would have more opportunity for day time contact.
The next day in fact provided an excellent opportunity.
It was a warm sunny day, as all of September had been this year, and after lunch, looking out from his bedroom window, he saw Jane Lanford and her daughter come out to sit in the garden chairs on their terrace. No doubt they had had a busy morning getting things sorted inside. Now they were in brief summer dresses and sandals. It was a Tuesday and Steve Lanford would no doubt have been off on the early commuter train this morning. And Carl's own Frances and daughter Liz were also conveniently out of the way. They had gone out for the afternoon, shopping: the new school term started next week and Liz wanted some new clothes. Altogether it was an opportunity that had to be seized....
He went down and stuck his head over the fence. Carl could be very charming when it was needed. Within five minutes he had Jane and Debbie Lanford sitting on his own terrace. On the garden table under the sunshade was a bottle of chilled white wine.
'This is awfully nice of you,' Jane said. 'It's exactly what I need. But only a mouthful for Debbie. We don't really let her drink yet.'
Debbie made a face, flushing slightly. 'Oh mum! I'm 17 remember.'
Carl grinned. Jane's white cotton dress was tight-bodiced with a full short skirt which left a good deal of her shapely bare legs on view. Debbie's brief pink-and-blue dress similarly revealed a good part of its owner's more coltish but equally charming thighs.
'Looking forward to the new school?' he asked. 'Quite possibly you'll be in Liz's class.'
The pretty girl pulled a face. 'Yes sort of. It's awful not knowing anyone.' She took a sip of her drink.
Carl smiled at mother and daughter. They really were both highly desirable. Debbie for The Club of course. And her mother... for the usual thing. A fuck. A nice afternoon fuck. He could feel his prick stiffening. Could he now, when he had scarcely met her? It might seem impossible – but somehow he had the feeling it was. His prick was telling him it was....
'Don't worry,' he told Debbie. 'I know they're all very keen to meet you. Look, why don't you come round again later when Liz is back...'
Yes. Later. Because for the moment the darling daughter's presence was a little superfluous. When what he wanted was intimate conversation with her mother. Intimate congress.
* * *
Jane couldn't believe it. Could it really have happened? She wanted to tell herself it hadn't, and it was certainly like a dream. But she knew it wasn't a dream, that was just the effect of the wine. No, it had happened. Also because of the wine of course. She had let Carl Holling fuck her. On that sofa in his lounge. In the middle of the afternoon.
Debbie had gone back into their house, to do some preparation work for school. The new school. Their host had said it was a good idea. In fact maybe he had actually suggested it? Yes, well it would be logical, wouldn't it. While he insisted that she stay. With that bottle of wine. Out on the terrace, and then inside. It would be cooler inside, he said. And then.... she couldn't really remember. Not the details. Probably her mind didn't want to remember, it was too awful. But he kept filling her glass. And then... well, she could remember odd bits. Just like a dream. On the sofa. His hand. Going up under her short skirt. 'I want to see if you're wearing knickers...' And then somehow... they were coming off... her knickers. She was trying to refuse but she had no control. A sense of having lost all control. The wine. His hand was there. At her pussy. Her wet pussy.... and then... it was happening. He was doing it to her. Fucking her. On top of her between her spread legs. One of her feet on the floor and the other up... yes, she was being fucked.
And then afterwards of course, when her mind did clear a bit and she was contemplating this awful thing that she had somehow allowed.... afterwards.... he was telling her about the other thing. This club. The Club. The group of them with their daughters. On the estate. A secret club. A disciplinary club.
He wanted them to join. Debbie. And Steve. So she would have to talk to Steve. Tell him. And persuade him, if that was necessary.
No, he said. Of course he wouldn't let anyone know what had just happened on this Tuesday afternoon on his sofa. Not a soul. If she would see about Debbie. And The Club.
* * *
'It's something they've organised because they think discipline is necessary,' Jane told Steve. 'For girls of that age. Because nowadays they don't get it in school. So..... they do it themselves. And, well, I suppose it does sound like a good idea. It's the fathers. And the daughters. Only not their own daughter. He said – Carl said – it's not possible do discipline your own daughter properly. And so it's someone else's.'
Jane and Steve were in bed. She hadn't been able to broach the subject before and it wasn't easy now. She was having to force herself. Her mind was still full of that awful business only hours earlier. On the Hollings' sofa. Carl Holling fucking her. And if she wanted it kept quiet – as she did! – then Steve had to join this club. With Debbie.
'What d'you mean, discipline?' Steve asked. His hand was sliding over her as they lay side by side on their backs under just a sheet. Sliding down to her pussy. She could guess he was going to want sex. A fuck. And she didn't want it, not after doing it with Carl next-door. Well it didn't seem she should, not right after. She slid her own hand down, to hold Steve's.
'Well, you know. Discipline. Ah..... spanking. And maybe also... I think.... strapping. If necessary.'
Steve said, 'You're joking.' His hand was sliding away from hers. Pushing in between her legs. To her pussy.
'No. Steve... I don't really feel like it... but no, I'm serious. And, well, I think maybe it's a good idea. If it's strictly private of course. Steve!'
He was getting on top of her. Despite her remonstrance's. Pushing her thighs apart. Getting between them. She felt the head of his stiff cock.
As he entered her Steve said, somewhat breathlessly, 'You mean that Carl... and the others... get to deal with Debbie. And I do... one of their daughters....?'
Jane said yes. As Steve began to fuck her. As only hours earlier Carl next door had fucked her.
* * *
'Don't worry,' Mr Holling says. 'It's strictly private. You don't need to worry about that. No one outside our little circle knows. Not a whisper. And of course the same goes for you, Debbie. Not a whisper to anyone. Well, I'm sure your father has already stressed that to you. Not that you would want to, I'm sure. I mean, taking your knickers down for a spanking, it's not something a girl wants to tell everyone about, is it?'
That was true of course. It was certainly true. You certainly wouldn't want to tell anyone. But...
Debbie is in the Hollings' lounge. Standing in front of Mr Holling who is sitting in the armchair. She is here to take her knickers down and have her bare bottom spanked. Can she be dreaming this? She would dearly like to think so. But she knows she isn't. It is Thursday afternoon, two days after Mr Holling invited Debbie and her mother round for that glass of wine. And now, after tea, she has been told to come round again. Only this time by herself. She has been told what for. It didn't seem believable what her mother told her. But it is evidently true. Mr Holling is clearly ready to do it. To take her over his lap. And spank her bare bottom.
Because there is this club. A disciplinary club. A number of girls. And their parents. Their fathers. That is what Debbie's mother has told her. Her own father will be involved too. But not to spank Debbie, he will deal with some other girl. It is a club devoted to discipline, because you don't get it at school these days. And this afternoon... is her introduction to this club.
'Come on then,' Mr Holling urges. 'Don't hang about. Or do we want more than a mere spanking? The strap. That can sting a bit I can tell you.'
No, Debbie certainly doesn't want the strap! And so... does she have any choice? It doesn't seem like it. Her hands reluctantly reach up under her short red skirt. For her knickers. This is really awful! Her hands fumbling to pull them down. They are a bright blushing pink. Which at this moment exactly matches the colour of Debbie's face.
'That's it!' Mr Holling's voice encouraging. 'Not so difficult, is it? And now come here. Over my lap...'
She does it. With the pink knicks now down off the cheeks of her bottom. Stumbling forward. Mr Holling takes her arm. Pulls her down. She half falls over his lap. And then his hand shockingly on the bare flesh. On the ripe bare curve of her bottom. The touch is electric...
The touch is electric too for Carl Holling. As it generally is when you get your hand on a pretty girl's bottom for the first time. The hot, smoothly pliant flesh. He caresses. For some long, sensuous seconds. Her twin ripe rondures above the thighs held in the lowered nylon knickers. She is making whimpering sounds.
And then spanks. Cracking his hand down hard on the left cheeks. She gives an explosive yelp, her bottom jerking. His hand splats down on the other cheek. Then the left one again, further down on the undercurve.
Each stinging smack brings a shuddering yelp, as he continues in a measured cadence...
* * *
Back in her own house Debbie's mother asks, 'It was alright, wasn't it, darling?' A bit anxiously, because of course she is the one who has got Debbie into this.
Debbie says, 'No it wasn't. It was awful.'
And it was of course. Well naturally, at 17 and if you haven't had anything like that before. Over a strange man's lap with your bottom bare. His hand caressing your bare bottom – and then cracking stingingly down on it. Dreadful – though at the same time maybe exciting in an awful way.
And there is the other thought. That what she has had is just the beginning. There are these other men in The Club. Debbie has been told she is going to have to see them too, it is not going to be only Mr Holling. And another awful thought as well. There will be more than just that spanking. That was awful enough, but there is going to be as well the strap. Also on her bare bottom!
Yes, Mr Holling, smiling, told her that when he had finished the spanking. When she was standing before him on trembling legs, her face bright red and with the hint of tears in her eyes, and her knickers still halfway down to her knees.
'It does sting a bit. Well, a lot I suppose is more accurate. The strap is for when it's felt you need something a bit more severe. You won't be getting it all the time. But there will have to be a couple of introductory sessions. To introduce you to it.'
So no, all in all, it is definitely not 'alright.'
'Oh darling, I'm sure it wasn't too bad,' Debbie's mother says. 'And I know it is going to be beneficial. Now you're going to have a chat with Liz, aren't you? I know that will reassure you.'
Yes, Debbie is going to talk to Liz next door. Who of course has been in The Club for, well, how long? Debbie is not sure she wants to discuss things with Liz. Or anyone.
But first her dad wants to speak to her. Steve Lanford is still a bit bemused by The Club. He has never heard of anything like it before – well, not seriously anyway. Carl next door has told him there are five others, including himself. Five fathers with their daughters. Steve and Debbie will make it six. And it seems they have a rotating schedule. So each parent gets to deal with all the other girls. It's all a bit mind-boggling. It means that Debbie will be in effect passed round to five different men. Poor girl! But on the other hand he will get a go at all those five other girls. Well that's not bad, is it!
What is perhaps even more surprising is that Jane knows all this and seems to approve. Amazing really! But then, who knows how women's minds work?
Anyway he has a word with Debbie. Up in her room. To gauge at first-hand her reaction. She says it was really awful. Hmmmm.... no doubt – but he wonders if perhaps it was also a bit of a turn-on. And also he'd like to know some details.
How exactly... Holling had her. And was it just... the spanking? No.... No... ah.... groping...?
Debbie doesn't want it, but he insists on a look at her bum. He makes her take her knickers down and then bend over the bed. Well he is very much a beginner in this. A beginner member of The Club. And he is going to begin with that Liz next door. She's nice. A nice looker, with a tasty shape. That should be fantastic. Not that her bottom will be any nicer than Debbie's... he pats the recently spanked flesh...
* * *
Two days later it's time for Debbie's second introduction. The tawse this time! Her mother knows what is in prospect. Jane bites her lip. Well a mother does feel for her dear daughter and she is all too well aware of her own major role in this. She reassures Debbie as best she can. 'I'm sure he'll do it so it doesn't really hurt, darling.' Etc. Debbie doesn't believe this. Not at all. She feels like bursting into tears just at the thought of it.
This time Carl Holling wants her dressed differently. He specifies a pretty dress, with stockings and a suspender belt instead of the white ankle socks she had on last time. 'Does she have any white stockings perhaps?' he asked her mother. Jane can imagine that the requested outfit is for his own titillation. Be that as it may she sees that Debbie is dressed as required.
'Lovely!' he applauds when Debbie appears at the appointed time. 'Quite delightful!'
The session is to take place in his lounge again. This time it is evening, after supper, and Debbie notices that the gas fire has been lit, even though it is not cold. Again there is no one else here; Liz and her mother have gone out, to leave Carl alone with his visitor.
And that fire; does it signify anything? Indeed it does. Mr Holling explains. When he gives a girl a tawsing he likes to have her bottom already warmed up. With a preheated bottom there is less chance of the leather cutting the tender flesh.
He shakes his head. 'Of course it does also mean that the tawse stings more. On a warmed-up bottom. But you're a big girl, aren't you Debbie dear? I'm sure you can take it very bravely.'
Debbie gives a little cry of fright. She certainly isn't feeling brave and doesn't want to be. Isn't there any way she can avoid this dreadful ordeal! Anything would seem to be better than that horrendous wide leather strap which is lying ominously on the table. Anything!
And that is something else. Debbie has had a chat with Liz now. About this club. The Club. Liz has told her a few things. She said it's not so bad once you're into it. But you have to learn how to make it easier for yourself. Some of them will give it to you really hard – but you can make it easier. What did Liz mean? Debbie tried to get her to spell it out but she wouldn't. Just laughed. And then wanted to go and talk about something else. Giggling, she said she would like to be spanked and strapped by her own father. That would be really exciting...
But what did Liz mean about that other? She didn't mean fucking did she? Debbie is not quite as innocent as she seems in that regard. She has fucked a couple of times. A boyfriend at her other school. Her mother doesn't know this, she would be very shocked if she did.
But anyway Debbie can't very well say: Look I really don't want this. Anything else. Yes anything! Yes a fuck if you want! No she can't say that. Well she can't really say anything. Except plead that she really doesn't want this. And Mr Holling isn't going to take any notice of that.
'Come on, Debbie dear. Girls in The Club have to have a tawsing now and then. So take your knickers down and then tuck your skirt up. And stand with your bottom to the fire. Nice and close. To get that pretty bottom really warm. And then I want you up on the chair. Kneeling on the seat...'
Was it awful? Oh yes you could say that. You could certainly say that. Debbie afterwards could hardly stand up. Her legs wouldn't support her. And she could only with difficulty pull her knickers back up, her hands didn't want to work. Coordinate!.... as for her poor bum... well it felt like raw meat...
Back at home Jane Lanford pursed her lips. 'I'll make you a nice hot drink, darling. Just try and forget it; it's all over now.'
But it wasn't all over, was it? No, it had all scarcely begun! Debbie burst into tears....
Her dad said he thought he'd better have a look. Up in her room. Debbie protested, as she had after the spanking. She didn't want him looking at her bottom, and in particular after the tawsing. But he insisted. Well, Steve Lanford was on a learning curve too. He had now given Liz a first spanking. It had been most enjoyable. Headily exciting... and he had got an enormous hard-on. He had rather got the impression that Liz might have quite liked it too, in spite of making a lot of noise. And now, well, he needed to see what a bottom looked like after a tawsing. To judge how far one should go.
Poor Debbie! He had her over his lap as he sat on the side of the bed. Her skirt up and her knickers down. His hand lightly touched the still hot flesh.
Debbie gave a whimpering yelp. Into her head came what Liz had said, that she would really like her own father to do it. Debbie whimpered again. The fingers were probing... and caressing... and she thought of the other thing too. About making it easier. She was going to have to talk to Liz again. Right away! She couldn't take another whipping like she'd just had...
Downstairs Jane was doing the washing-up. While thinking of poor Debbie of course. She had asked Carl to please not do it too hard. This morning. He had come round and she had made him some coffee. And... she had let him fuck her again. Well, she had tried to refuse but he had just laughed. And said, 'I know you really want it.'
Recruit For The Club
Seventeen-year-old Debbie Lanford stuttered, 'I... I can't. I mean I've never...'
She was standing red-faced and trembling in the next-door neighbours' lounge. The Hollings. In front of Mr Holling who was sitting in the big armchair. Mr Holling was smiling good-naturedly. But he had just told her to take her knickers down. And then get across his lap. He was going to spank her bare bottom...
And in spite of that smile he meant it. 'Come on,' he urged. 'Or it won't be just a spanking. It'll be the tawse. That does sting rather. Would you rather that.'
She shook her head. Her blush deepening, if that was possible. As her hands reluctantly moved to slide up under her short skirt.
Mr Holling said, 'That's a good girl.'
* * *
The house next to the Hollings had not been vacant for long; hardly surprising as this was an attractive leafy middle-class estate in a pleasant market town within easy commuting distance of London. The newcomers had moved in two days ago. They were called Lanford, Steve and Jane, and seemed about the same age as Carl and Frances Holling who were in their late thirties. Carl had noted with approval that Jane Lanford was a good-looking, shapely blonde. And also there was a teenage daughter, about the same age as their own daughter Liz who was 17. That to Carl Holling was just as worthy of note as the attractiveness of her mother.
Carl Holling was not the only adult male on the estate to have noted that the new arrivals had a nice-looking teenage daughter. It would have been observed especially by others with daughters of about that age. Members of what was known as The Club. It was of course a very confidential club.
One of them, Ron Greenling, had happened to be in the corner shop at the same time as Carl yesterday morning, Sunday. There had been a discreet exchange. Outside and away from the possibility of being overhead, Ron was eager for news. Carl said her name was Debbie and he could confirm that she was joining the local school, which their own daughters attended. That was the extent of his current knowledge.
'But don't worry, I'll be working on.... er.... matters just as fast as I can.'
Ron said, 'Good! She's nice, isn't she! And I'm sure definitely in need of a little you-know-what. I can scarcely wait!'
Carl of course would be the one to progress the situation. He was the next-door neighbour but not only that, he was a writer working from home and thus would have more opportunity for day time contact.
The next day in fact provided an excellent opportunity.
It was a warm sunny day, as all of September had been this year, and after lunch, looking out from his bedroom window, he saw Jane Lanford and her daughter come out to sit in the garden chairs on their terrace. No doubt they had had a busy morning getting things sorted inside. Now they were in brief summer dresses and sandals. It was a Tuesday and Steve Lanford would no doubt have been off on the early commuter train this morning. And Carl's own Frances and daughter Liz were also conveniently out of the way. They had gone out for the afternoon, shopping: the new school term started next week and Liz wanted some new clothes. Altogether it was an opportunity that had to be seized....
He went down and stuck his head over the fence. Carl could be very charming when it was needed. Within five minutes he had Jane and Debbie Lanford sitting on his own terrace. On the garden table under the sunshade was a bottle of chilled white wine.
'This is awfully nice of you,' Jane said. 'It's exactly what I need. But only a mouthful for Debbie. We don't really let her drink yet.'
Debbie made a face, flushing slightly. 'Oh mum! I'm 17 remember.'
Carl grinned. Jane's white cotton dress was tight-bodiced with a full short skirt which left a good deal of her shapely bare legs on view. Debbie's brief pink-and-blue dress similarly revealed a good part of its owner's more coltish but equally charming thighs.
'Looking forward to the new school?' he asked. 'Quite possibly you'll be in Liz's class.'
The pretty girl pulled a face. 'Yes sort of. It's awful not knowing anyone.' She took a sip of her drink.
Carl smiled at mother and daughter. They really were both highly desirable. Debbie for The Club of course. And her mother... for the usual thing. A fuck. A nice afternoon fuck. He could feel his prick stiffening. Could he now, when he had scarcely met her? It might seem impossible – but somehow he had the feeling it was. His prick was telling him it was....
'Don't worry,' he told Debbie. 'I know they're all very keen to meet you. Look, why don't you come round again later when Liz is back...'
Yes. Later. Because for the moment the darling daughter's presence was a little superfluous. When what he wanted was intimate conversation with her mother. Intimate congress.
* * *
Jane couldn't believe it. Could it really have happened? She wanted to tell herself it hadn't, and it was certainly like a dream. But she knew it wasn't a dream, that was just the effect of the wine. No, it had happened. Also because of the wine of course. She had let Carl Holling fuck her. On that sofa in his lounge. In the middle of the afternoon.
Debbie had gone back into their house, to do some preparation work for school. The new school. Their host had said it was a good idea. In fact maybe he had actually suggested it? Yes, well it would be logical, wouldn't it. While he insisted that she stay. With that bottle of wine. Out on the terrace, and then inside. It would be cooler inside, he said. And then.... she couldn't really remember. Not the details. Probably her mind didn't want to remember, it was too awful. But he kept filling her glass. And then... well, she could remember odd bits. Just like a dream. On the sofa. His hand. Going up under her short skirt. 'I want to see if you're wearing knickers...' And then somehow... they were coming off... her knickers. She was trying to refuse but she had no control. A sense of having lost all control. The wine. His hand was there. At her pussy. Her wet pussy.... and then... it was happening. He was doing it to her. Fucking her. On top of her between her spread legs. One of her feet on the floor and the other up... yes, she was being fucked.
And then afterwards of course, when her mind did clear a bit and she was contemplating this awful thing that she had somehow allowed.... afterwards.... he was telling her about the other thing. This club. The Club. The group of them with their daughters. On the estate. A secret club. A disciplinary club.
He wanted them to join. Debbie. And Steve. So she would have to talk to Steve. Tell him. And persuade him, if that was necessary.
No, he said. Of course he wouldn't let anyone know what had just happened on this Tuesday afternoon on his sofa. Not a soul. If she would see about Debbie. And The Club.
* * *
'It's something they've organised because they think discipline is necessary,' Jane told Steve. 'For girls of that age. Because nowadays they don't get it in school. So..... they do it themselves. And, well, I suppose it does sound like a good idea. It's the fathers. And the daughters. Only not their own daughter. He said – Carl said – it's not possible do discipline your own daughter properly. And so it's someone else's.'
Jane and Steve were in bed. She hadn't been able to broach the subject before and it wasn't easy now. She was having to force herself. Her mind was still full of that awful business only hours earlier. On the Hollings' sofa. Carl Holling fucking her. And if she wanted it kept quiet – as she did! – then Steve had to join this club. With Debbie.
'What d'you mean, discipline?' Steve asked. His hand was sliding over her as they lay side by side on their backs under just a sheet. Sliding down to her pussy. She could guess he was going to want sex. A fuck. And she didn't want it, not after doing it with Carl next-door. Well it didn't seem she should, not right after. She slid her own hand down, to hold Steve's.
'Well, you know. Discipline. Ah..... spanking. And maybe also... I think.... strapping. If necessary.'
Steve said, 'You're joking.' His hand was sliding away from hers. Pushing in between her legs. To her pussy.
'No. Steve... I don't really feel like it... but no, I'm serious. And, well, I think maybe it's a good idea. If it's strictly private of course. Steve!'
He was getting on top of her. Despite her remonstrance's. Pushing her thighs apart. Getting between them. She felt the head of his stiff cock.
As he entered her Steve said, somewhat breathlessly, 'You mean that Carl... and the others... get to deal with Debbie. And I do... one of their daughters....?'
Jane said yes. As Steve began to fuck her. As only hours earlier Carl next door had fucked her.
* * *
'Don't worry,' Mr Holling says. 'It's strictly private. You don't need to worry about that. No one outside our little circle knows. Not a whisper. And of course the same goes for you, Debbie. Not a whisper to anyone. Well, I'm sure your father has already stressed that to you. Not that you would want to, I'm sure. I mean, taking your knickers down for a spanking, it's not something a girl wants to tell everyone about, is it?'
That was true of course. It was certainly true. You certainly wouldn't want to tell anyone. But...
Debbie is in the Hollings' lounge. Standing in front of Mr Holling who is sitting in the armchair. She is here to take her knickers down and have her bare bottom spanked. Can she be dreaming this? She would dearly like to think so. But she knows she isn't. It is Thursday afternoon, two days after Mr Holling invited Debbie and her mother round for that glass of wine. And now, after tea, she has been told to come round again. Only this time by herself. She has been told what for. It didn't seem believable what her mother told her. But it is evidently true. Mr Holling is clearly ready to do it. To take her over his lap. And spank her bare bottom.
Because there is this club. A disciplinary club. A number of girls. And their parents. Their fathers. That is what Debbie's mother has told her. Her own father will be involved too. But not to spank Debbie, he will deal with some other girl. It is a club devoted to discipline, because you don't get it at school these days. And this afternoon... is her introduction to this club.
'Come on then,' Mr Holling urges. 'Don't hang about. Or do we want more than a mere spanking? The strap. That can sting a bit I can tell you.'
No, Debbie certainly doesn't want the strap! And so... does she have any choice? It doesn't seem like it. Her hands reluctantly reach up under her short red skirt. For her knickers. This is really awful! Her hands fumbling to pull them down. They are a bright blushing pink. Which at this moment exactly matches the colour of Debbie's face.
'That's it!' Mr Holling's voice encouraging. 'Not so difficult, is it? And now come here. Over my lap...'
She does it. With the pink knicks now down off the cheeks of her bottom. Stumbling forward. Mr Holling takes her arm. Pulls her down. She half falls over his lap. And then his hand shockingly on the bare flesh. On the ripe bare curve of her bottom. The touch is electric...
The touch is electric too for Carl Holling. As it generally is when you get your hand on a pretty girl's bottom for the first time. The hot, smoothly pliant flesh. He caresses. For some long, sensuous seconds. Her twin ripe rondures above the thighs held in the lowered nylon knickers. She is making whimpering sounds.
* * *
Back in her own house Debbie's mother asks, 'It was alright, wasn't it, darling?' A bit anxiously, because of course she is the one who has got Debbie into this.
Debbie says, 'No it wasn't. It was awful.'
And it was of course. Well naturally, at 17 and if you haven't had anything like that before. Over a strange man's lap with your bottom bare. His hand caressing your bare bottom – and then cracking stingingly down on it. Dreadful – though at the same time maybe exciting in an awful way.
And there is the other thought. That what she has had is just the beginning. There are these other men in The Club. Debbie has been told she is going to have to see them too, it is not going to be only Mr Holling. And another awful thought as well. There will be more than just that spanking. That was awful enough, but there is going to be as well the strap. Also on her bare bottom!
Yes, Mr Holling, smiling, told her that when he had finished the spanking. When she was standing before him on trembling legs, her face bright red and with the hint of tears in her eyes, and her knickers still halfway down to her knees.
'It does sting a bit. Well, a lot I suppose is more accurate. The strap is for when it's felt you need something a bit more severe. You won't be getting it all the time. But there will have to be a couple of introductory sessions. To introduce you to it.'
So no, all in all, it is definitely not 'alright.'
'Oh darling, I'm sure it wasn't too bad,' Debbie's mother says. 'And I know it is going to be beneficial. Now you're going to have a chat with Liz, aren't you? I know that will reassure you.'
Yes, Debbie is going to talk to Liz next door. Who of course has been in The Club for, well, how long? Debbie is not sure she wants to discuss things with Liz. Or anyone.
But first her dad wants to speak to her. Steve Lanford is still a bit bemused by The Club. He has never heard of anything like it before – well, not seriously anyway. Carl next door has told him there are five others, including himself. Five fathers with their daughters. Steve and Debbie will make it six. And it seems they have a rotating schedule. So each parent gets to deal with all the other girls. It's all a bit mind-boggling. It means that Debbie will be in effect passed round to five different men. Poor girl! But on the other hand he will get a go at all those five other girls. Well that's not bad, is it!
What is perhaps even more surprising is that Jane knows all this and seems to approve. Amazing really! But then, who knows how women's minds work?
Anyway he has a word with Debbie. Up in her room. To gauge at first-hand her reaction. She says it was really awful. Hmmmm.... no doubt – but he wonders if perhaps it was also a bit of a turn-on. And also he'd like to know some details.
How exactly... Holling had her. And was it just... the spanking? No.... No... ah.... groping...?
Debbie doesn't want it, but he insists on a look at her bum. He makes her take her knickers down and then bend over the bed. Well he is very much a beginner in this. A beginner member of The Club. And he is going to begin with that Liz next door. She's nice. A nice looker, with a tasty shape. That should be fantastic. Not that her bottom will be any nicer than Debbie's... he pats the recently spanked flesh...
* * *
Two days later it's time for Debbie's second introduction. The tawse this time! Her mother knows what is in prospect. Jane bites her lip. Well a mother does feel for her dear daughter and she is all too well aware of her own major role in this. She reassures Debbie as best she can. 'I'm sure he'll do it so it doesn't really hurt, darling.' Etc. Debbie doesn't believe this. Not at all. She feels like bursting into tears just at the thought of it.
This time Carl Holling wants her dressed differently. He specifies a pretty dress, with stockings and a suspender belt instead of the white ankle socks she had on last time. 'Does she have any white stockings perhaps?' he asked her mother. Jane can imagine that the requested outfit is for his own titillation. Be that as it may she sees that Debbie is dressed as required.
'Lovely!' he applauds when Debbie appears at the appointed time. 'Quite delightful!'
The session is to take place in his lounge again. This time it is evening, after supper, and Debbie notices that the gas fire has been lit, even though it is not cold. Again there is no one else here; Liz and her mother have gone out, to leave Carl alone with his visitor.
And that fire; does it signify anything? Indeed it does. Mr Holling explains. When he gives a girl a tawsing he likes to have her bottom already warmed up. With a preheated bottom there is less chance of the leather cutting the tender flesh.
He shakes his head. 'Of course it does also mean that the tawse stings more. On a warmed-up bottom. But you're a big girl, aren't you Debbie dear? I'm sure you can take it very bravely.'
Debbie gives a little cry of fright. She certainly isn't feeling brave and doesn't want to be. Isn't there any way she can avoid this dreadful ordeal! Anything would seem to be better than that horrendous wide leather strap which is lying ominously on the table. Anything!
And that is something else. Debbie has had a chat with Liz now. About this club. The Club. Liz has told her a few things. She said it's not so bad once you're into it. But you have to learn how to make it easier for yourself. Some of them will give it to you really hard – but you can make it easier. What did Liz mean? Debbie tried to get her to spell it out but she wouldn't. Just laughed. And then wanted to go and talk about something else. Giggling, she said she would like to be spanked and strapped by her own father. That would be really exciting...
But what did Liz mean about that other? She didn't mean fucking did she? Debbie is not quite as innocent as she seems in that regard. She has fucked a couple of times. A boyfriend at her other school. Her mother doesn't know this, she would be very shocked if she did.
But anyway Debbie can't very well say: Look I really don't want this. Anything else. Yes anything! Yes a fuck if you want! No she can't say that. Well she can't really say anything. Except plead that she really doesn't want this. And Mr Holling isn't going to take any notice of that.
'Come on, Debbie dear. Girls in The Club have to have a tawsing now and then. So take your knickers down and then tuck your skirt up. And stand with your bottom to the fire. Nice and close. To get that pretty bottom really warm. And then I want you up on the chair. Kneeling on the seat...'
Back at home Jane Lanford pursed her lips. 'I'll make you a nice hot drink, darling. Just try and forget it; it's all over now.'
But it wasn't all over, was it? No, it had all scarcely begun! Debbie burst into tears....
Her dad said he thought he'd better have a look. Up in her room. Debbie protested, as she had after the spanking. She didn't want him looking at her bottom, and in particular after the tawsing. But he insisted. Well, Steve Lanford was on a learning curve too. He had now given Liz a first spanking. It had been most enjoyable. Headily exciting... and he had got an enormous hard-on. He had rather got the impression that Liz might have quite liked it too, in spite of making a lot of noise. And now, well, he needed to see what a bottom looked like after a tawsing. To judge how far one should go.
Poor Debbie! He had her over his lap as he sat on the side of the bed. Her skirt up and her knickers down. His hand lightly touched the still hot flesh.
Debbie gave a whimpering yelp. Into her head came what Liz had said, that she would really like her own father to do it. Debbie whimpered again. The fingers were probing... and caressing... and she thought of the other thing too. About making it easier. She was going to have to talk to Liz again. Right away! She couldn't take another whipping like she'd just had...
Downstairs Jane was doing the washing-up. While thinking of poor Debbie of course. She had asked Carl to please not do it too hard. This morning. He had come round and she had made him some coffee. And... she had let him fuck her again. Well, she had tried to refuse but he had just laughed. And said, 'I know you really want it.'
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