Sunday, June 26, 2022

2040 part 5

That night in bed after lights out I reasoned myself. 'Its no use crying over spilled milk. You deserve the korrekturhäuser. First there was those two demerits for having failed the German grammar test because you feel that you are above learning basic grammar. Second you ran through a yellow light, and don't cheat with the fact that it wasn't red on the other side when you got through, again two dems well earned. Third you must have made a spectacle of yourself in front of some surveillance camera with allowing that boy to tickle your minette, two more well deserved dems !
Next morning over breakfast I finally told my roommates that I have 6 dems. They were real nice, they didn't tease me, they only said that I should be ready for some serious bum rubbing. They also knew all the questions I wanted to ask and took turn answering them. "During the day you will be given a choice of two appointments, best to take the late afternoon one..."
"We will be waiting for you with after spanking balm..."
They also debated, "Its her first visit..."
"You forget that she got 2 dems for a traffic violation..."
"Be sure to scan your bracelet before the day is over..."
I did and the metallic voice offered 9 am or 5 pm. I followed the advice of my roomies and took the 5 pm one.
Next day I was 10 minutes before the appointed time. I wasn't too proud to be locking my electra-bike in front of the Korrekturhäuser fur madchen. I hurriedly climbed the few steps and pushed the door.
I discovered a waiting room decorated with old fashion paper posters of the regional landmarks, and a row of chairs facing a counter with a matronly lady. On those chairs were sitting a girl my age also wearing a school uniform and a young woman in her early twenty's with a business like skirt and a short jacket. They were both head down looking at their shoes.
I introduced myself, "Good afternoon, Ma'am, I have an appointment at 5..."
"Good afternoon, junges madchen, please scan your bracelet..."
I did and the metallic voice announced my name and my misdeeds. I couldn't help blushing. I was told to take a seat, and wait for my turn.
The three of us looked up when the leather upholstered door with the gold plate reading korrektionraum was opened. We saw a young woman of twenty something wearing a short Bavarian dirndl dress. She was frantically rubbing her bottom. I was quite surprised to see her well reddened bum revealed by a string under such a shortish dress...
It was ultimately my turn. I opened the upholstered door and was welcomed by a stern looking middle aged lady. I also immediately saw a leather cushioned trestle and a strange contraption on wheels.
She didn't have a metallic voice. "Since it is your first visit I will be lenient, but I will take into account your traffic violation and your ribald conduct. Take off your knickers and bend over the trestle.
  I had to grab the feet of that contraption to avoid falling forward. I felt my skirt riding up and exposing everything. With one of her feet the punishing lady opened my legs before pulling my skirt up over my back. I felt a hot flush and knew that I was blushing crimson.
Then I heard a threatening hissing sound and, "Its the cane for you, the junior cane since its your first visit, six of the best for six demerits, and one more across your thighs so that you learn to keep your skirt down."
I again heard that hissing sound and it was followed by a punishing THWACK that radiated across my exposed derriere, "OH! OUCH!"
I had heard of the cane, but I had never received a caning. It was fierce, sharp stripes of fire which had my furry peach gasping for my greater embarrassment.
I cried out, "OH! ARGH! OUCH!"
I felt my eyes watering...
The last one across my thighs was the worse and for a few seconds I forgot my  throbbing nates. "OHH! ARGHHH! OUCHHHH!"
"Stand up, don't rub, hold your hands atop your head and face that wall while I update your records."
A few minutes later while I was still sniffling she gave me back my knickers, "Pull them up without rubbing!"
The soft cotton was no longer as soft! I shivered as she added, "If you come back within less than a month it will be the whipping machine..."
I shamefully rubbed my burning bum as I hurried down the front steps of the korrekturhäuser. I understood why the young woman of the other day was rubbing her bottom although everyone in the street could see her. It couldn't be helped with having a furiously burning moon.
As I was unlocking my bike I overheard an old lady teasing her friend, "Brings back memory Mariana! A stripe across the thighs for a naughty girl!"
"Yah, but I married Hans, and you didn't!"
I pushed my bike all the way back to Saint Agatha, and quite a few times I couldn't help rubbing my skirt over my throbbing bottom and thighs...
To be continued...
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  1. Love the K Haus, B :-)
    It was often called Church in Georgia in the 1960s!!!
    Thanks and stingy-bot-bots to ya, B!
    Brenda xx


  3. Thanks both of you!
    Not easy to avoid over doing it with a K house...
    Hugs and smackies!
    B xx

  4. "The soft cotton was no longer as soft!" - soft botties need soft cotton!

    Oh my! Lovely fuchsia pink & black panties above, B. Very pretty.
    Plus evidence of a smacked hiney!

    Seeing this lovely image & reading the story again, I am reminded that my sister & I never wore pretty pink panties in childhood sadly; Boo-Hoo! Only those famous (infamous ha-ha?!) Old fashioned, large, 1950s, white panties growing up in the 60s & 70s...which conveniently, thank the Lord, covered our scarlet sore botties if we had been naughty & gotten a whuppin' !

    Those lovely, soft, iconic white knicks were fashioned from local Georgia cotton, and were brighter than-dazzling-white....although I think the sensitive skin on our porcelain-smooth botties was perhaps even more dazzling-whiter than our cotton panties, B!!! ha-ha!

    Indeed, our squishy-pale bums sure never saw the Southern ultra-violet light, that is for certain. Indeed, ergo: our swimsuits were also, like our panties, very large, very conservative, Ol' fashioned & 1950s-style. And so they gave us starkly defined sun tan lines & ultra-white backsides! I am very fond of these large, 1950s panties & swimsuits - they remind me of happy, warm, kind, harmonious, conservative yet strict family times. And yes, naturally, they also remind me of corporal punishment, B.

    When we were naughty in the 1960s, mom raised our dresses & pulled down our white panties to our knees. And we gotten the whippy-rattan cane across our bare botties in the living room (12 strokes). We screamed & squawked in Hell. Then our soft panties gotten pulled back up, & our dresses smartened back down. There was no strap in our house, just the cane.

    After some time in our bedrooms, we might then be over the fence at the neighbours with our mom for juice n cookies. Luckily our swimsuits or panties would hide the cane marks because of their large size, lots of fabric covering our chubby bums all round!

    But alas, the neighbours sure did hear our whoopings (in spring/summer with doors open). I knew that they actually heard that harsh, rasping, sound of the cane smacking upon our bare buttocks: crackling the sultry summer silence of our suburban community. Twenty four resounding SMACKS on bare skin if we both gotten punished! Oh my!! And of course, our much louder wailing & desperate cries.

    It was never embarrassing for we sisters per se, because bare bottom chastisement was a foundation stone of family life in the South, & simply a function of good, kind, strict parenting. Y'all advocated it, B! And the sound of daughters' bare bottoms being
    tanned was frequent, normal & necessary back then.

    But at least our signature, voluminous 1950s style swimsuits n panties covered up the evidence of a smacked bottom!! Oh my! Which was good of course, when we mixed with our besties in the park or paddling pools etc!

    So yup! In some ways I was lucky that mom never allowed us to wear more trendy, fashionable panties (like cartoon panties or trendy, modern patterned, pink colourful ones)....just strictly orthodox, large, church-compliant white knickers for conservative, Christian, good two-shoes girls!! Which covered up the caned-sore-skin! Oh dear!
    Hugs n thanks, B.
    Brenda xx