Four Play

"You will get two strokes for getting a bad grade." I always tell a bad girl why she's being spanked, just before she gets it. I want her to know what she's done to displease me and earn this punishment.

"You've really disappointed me, little girl. So you'll get them with a cane, not a paddle."

Joey sucks in a sharp, surprised, and horrified breath. I feel her tense up already. She's yet to get the cane, any of my canes, but she knows it's going to be worse for her. I'm sure she's watched plenty of pron clips with canes in them. She's that eager and curious that she's always watching those. And praying that some of the stuff she sees will be done to her. I doubt the cane is one of the things she's so eager to explore. "Yes, Ma'am," Joey squeaks out in a very mousy and timid voice that's pure nervousness.

I'm not using a big cane. It's not like I even could with her over my knees. It's only about 18" long, and that includes the leather handle on it. It's ¼" thick bamboo, about the worst wood to make a switch or cane out of. I raise it up, but not as high as I can reach. I lift it about a foot and a half off her bottom. That way it won't have the distance to build up too much speed as it snaps through the air. Speed equals pain. And while this spanking needs to worse for Joey, I don't want to actually hurt her. I just want it to hurt. She needs that. She needs to feel the price of disappointing me, and firmly know that I won't' tolerate it.

I just flick my wrist. That's all it takes to send the cane sailing through the air. It lands with a loud crack against her tight globes. For a split second, I see the cane "slicing" into her cheeks, the firm flesh caving in underneath the stick. It's not that hard. It sears a narrow red stripe across her hard globes, but it doesn't cut into her flesh or bruise it up. Not yet.

Joey screams out "YE-OW!" as it lands. She immediately sobs "OW! OW! OH, OW!!!" I feel her body tense up hard for a split second. I see her feet squirm against the floor. I feel, and kind of see, her bottom wiggle from side to side for a second. As she "stills" for the strike, she fidgets hard. "OH, OW!!!" she sobs again. "One, Miss Rodgers... I am so sorry for disappointing you with my bad grades, Ma'am. Thank you for not putting up with my naughtiness and caning my bad bottom to remind me I have to obey, Ma'am." Joey counts off her stroke. "Will you please cane my bottom again, Ma'am, I deserve another stroke for being such a bad little girl, Ma'am." I can hear it in her voice. It about kills her to have to ask for her second stroke. She so does not want it.

I flick my wrist again, snapping the cane against her tight globes and searing another bright red stripe across her bottom just beneath the first one. I wanted to avoid hitting the already sore flesh. I don't want to bruise her bottom, and that might well be enough to do it.

Joey screams another pained "YE-OW!" and immediately sobs several more loud "OW!s" She tenses, relaxes, the squirms for a second. Then she counts off her second stroke. She counts it in a voice that's sobbing, but also full of relief that it's over.

I tell her to stand up. She does, putting her hands behind her back as she must and resisting the urge to rub and soothe her stinging bottom. I can see that her eyes are wet, but tears haven't run down her cheeks yet. But she hasn't considered the real punishment yet. I won't offer her any concessions to her stinging bottom. Not a one. When it's time for her to sit, she'll sit on it. And she'll sit still, just letting the sting slice into her bottom. That's the real punishment.

I send her to a cloth director's chair sitting along the wall beside my desk. The opposite side than the stool. I tell her to go sit there and wait a moment. She goes. She sucks in a sharp and pained breath as her weight lowers on the soft cloth, too. Then she grimaces hard as she sits up and waits.

Chapter 02: Mommy's Turn

I point to the stool Joey just vacated. "Casey, come over here and sit. You and I are going to have a talk." My voice is stern. I hope it conveys my displeasure with her.

Casey comes and sits on the stool. She sits with her knees tightly together and her hands resting on her thighs. I immediately scold her "No wonder Joey doesn't have any manners! Sit up straight!" I might snap at her just a little, too.

Casey straightens up. There is no way she's going to risk offending me. I have too much power over her, at least in her mind. There's no doubt that I own Joey. Joey will eagerly do whatever I say. Casey knows that if I'm displeased with her, I might well decide to "take" Joey away from her. It would hurt Casey as bad as if the state took Joey from her ten years ago. Joey is still her little girl. Always will be. But now Joey is 18, and if I tell Joey to stay here, she won't hesitate to. There wouldn't be anything Casey could do about it.

I scold her again to sit like a lady and cross her legs. A look of surprise comes over Casey's face. She doesn't exactly hurry, but she does cross her legs. I scold her again to demurely fold her hand in her lap. A slight edginess creeps onto her face, but she does as I ask. It's the first time she's been on the stool instead of my sofa. I think she's just assuming that the rules are for the stool. And wondering why I'm asking her to follow them.

I spend a few minutes just asking Casey some mundane questions to put her at ease. It works. As soon as I start asking about useless tidbits, like how Joey is eating and how her job is going, I can see her visibly relax.

Now that she's relaxed, it's time for me to start. I definitely didn't bring her to the stool to tell me about her boring job opening accounts at a bank. Then again, now that everyone is wearing masks everywhere, I guess that job could get exciting...

"Casey, I think we both can see the problem. Joey isn't being strictly supervised. I mean, really? She gets a bad grade and her punishment is losing her TV for a few days? She deserved a real punishment for that grade. Like the spanking she just got. That's discipline, and she needs the discipline to excel."

"Uh... OK... So you want me to spank her when she doesn't get an A on everything? I..."

"UGH!" I sigh. "Casey, clearly you have no clue what discipline is. No wonder Joey is misbehaving. If she were properly supervised and disciplined, she would behave that naughty bottom of hers. I believe you and I agreed that you would supervise Joey if I allowed her to stay with you. That makes it your fault that she's getting such horrible grades.

"What I ought to do is keep her here where she will be supervised like the naughty little girl she is." I watch the look of horror sweep over Casey's face. She's thinking that I'm going to tell her Joey is staying here. So perfect! "But that's not really fair." I grin my evil impish grin. It's the grin that tells Sophie I'm having fun. It tells Sophie that Casey isn't going to like what I have to say next, too. "I like to be fair. Since your lame supervision is the reason for Joey's low grade, it's fair that you should be the one punished for your failure.

"Joey paid the price for her grade. I'm sure her bottom still stings very badly from it. You are going to pay for your incompetence. You will stay here for the weekend where you can learn what discipline is. You'll learn some manners, too. You'll be surprised what you'll learn as my property -- just as Joey is -- for a weekend. Unless you'd prefer I simply made other arrangements for Joey, someplace where I know she'll be supervised like the worthless bitch both of you seem to be..."

"NO!" Casey blurts out with a very nervous sob in her voice. "Please don't do that! I'll stay! Please! I'll stay!"

Mothers are just so predictable. And very easy to bully into doing whatever I want them to do. Of course, if I didn't think Casey was going to enjoy her time here, I wouldn't bully her into staying. Over the last weeks, I've heard her say too many little things that make me think she might want to play a little.

I've also noticed that Casey is a very shy and timid woman. She's not the type who would come out and tell me she wanted to play. Nor is she the type who would play if I just invited her. She's the type who will sit at home and wish she had been invited to play. Dream about it. Fantasize about it. Know her fantasy will never become reality because she's too timid to take the steps to make it a reality.

So I bully her. It's pure theater. I can't take Joey from her. Joey is an adult. All I can do is offer Joey a choice to live here and serve me on her knees or stay home with her mom. True, Joey would clearly choose to come here. But she is 18. Mom should know that Joey won't be living at home much longer no matter what. If she doesn't come here, she'll go to college. Hello, dorm!

But it does allow Casey a way to tell herself that she doesn't have a choice. A way to lie to herself. To pretend that she's only submitting herself for Joey. I think she needs that deniability to get over the hump and try what she secretly wants to do.

"If you stay here, you will completely belong to me until I dismiss you. I will own you. I will own that body. I will do with it as I fancy. You will have no say in anything. No choice at all. No privacy. No modesty. No... anything. Just whatever crumbs I chose to give you. And understand this, you will obey me. Discipline here is strict. Anything other than complete, unquestioning obedience will earn you a very unpleasant punishment. I won't take your TV time away. You'll be properly punished. Still want to stay and learn what discipline is, bitch?"

"Yes..." Casey squeaks out a very mousy and quiet reply. She refuses to look at me, too. Instead, she averts her eyes. But I see the hint of a twinkle in those eyes. It's the opposite of the nervous tremble in her voice. "I'll stay... Just please, don't take Joey away... I'll stay..."

"Lesson one. A worthless peasant bitch always has proper and polite manners. 'I'll stay' is not a proper, respectful, humble answer. It's an answer you'd give to a friend -- assuming you could find anyone willing to call a worthless peasant like you a friend, that is. A polite bitch would answer, 'may I please be allowed to stay, Ma'am?' Try it again, bitch."

"May I please be allowed to stay, Ma'am?" Casey recites the line. Her voice is just as mousy shy as ever. And now the nervousness ramps up a notch. Maybe she's realizing just how much she's going to learn here. I'd hope she's been around Joey enough to know that I only tell bitches things once.

"Stand up, bitch... In case you haven't been paying attention to Joey, who has some manners, that means: answer 'yes, Ma'am.' Get up. Stand up straight. Open your feet slightly. Hands at the small of your back. Eyes forward. Mouth shut. Stand now, bitch."

"Yes, Ma'am," Casey's mousy voice breaks. And it's quieter than before. But she hesitantly gets to her feet. And stands the way I told her to. I'm sure she can guess what's coming next. The same thing I always have Joey do. Strip. I never allow Joey to have anything of hers except for her school things. And I keep those until I want her to study. Even then she only gets what I want her to use of them.

I make Casey wait a few seconds. Not long. Just a few seconds for her to stand there and think about how she's going to be getting naked. "Undress, bitch." Since it's her first time, and I know that she's too nervous, too embarrassed, to be thinking much now, I tell her firmly what the command means for her to do. To strip the exact way I always have Joey strip. From the top of her head down to the tip of her toes. Giving up everything.

Casey moves slowly, her hands very reluctant and fumbling as they start to unbutton her long-sleeve blouse. Casey, I've seen, is a rather modest woman. She always wears loose-fitting clothes that hide the shape of her body. But from what little I've been able to make out, there's no reason for her to hide her figure. Other than shyness.

It takes her close to forever to get her blouse off and bare a cute, but fairly modest, royal blue bra. I call it modest because it has full cups that cover all of her breasts. She obediently folds her blouse up and adds it to the pile her shoes began on my desk. Right next to the pile of Joey's clothes.

Casey is barely taller than her daughter, I'd guess she's about 5'6". She's a few pounds heavier, though. Maybe all of 140, which is still a good weight for a woman of her height. A moderately lean weight. I know little about Casey. But I do know that she's 43-years-old.

Her face is slightly oval, just as Joey's is. It has the same soft and rounded features to it. But Casey has black hair. It's straight, with a moderate amount of body to it as it hangs down just far enough to tickle the tops of her shoulders. She has green eyes. She has a slightly wide nose with soft features. And she has a wide mouth framed with narrow light pink lips.

I can already see that her shoulders are lean. Lean enough that I can see the outline of her collar bones. Her chest is just as lean -- slender, but not quite to where I can make out her ribs. As a woman should be. Her stomach is flat, too. Her skin is even still fairly taut. And fully wrinkle-free. There's a nice little curve to her waist, too. She definitely doesn't have anything to be shy about.

I see a very embarrassed look flood her face as she blushes brightly. She's just realized that her bra is the next thing that has to come off. It's going to leave her naked from the waist up. But fully dressed from there down. Which means her breasts are going to be hanging out, on full display, as she finishes undressing.

Casey's hands move slowly as she reaches up behind her back. Her hands fumble for a few seconds, not too long before I see the straps of her bra fall free to her sides. She reaches up to her shoulders. She hesitates for a second, not much longer than that, then her eyes shift to the side so she's not looking straight at me. She slips the straps down off her shoulders and along her arms.

It bares a pair of ample breasts to my eyes. I'd guess she's a C-up, but I'll find out for sure later. Her mounds are soft, lying back against her chest and forming a fairly deep crease where they meet. They're soft enough that I can see it in them. I can see the looseness in their skin. These breasts are going to be water balloons in my hands. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but I do prefer my breasts pert. Then again, not everyone shares that opinion. They are still nicely rounded, especially at their tips. On top, they have a decent amount of straightness to their slope, though. But that's to be expected with them lying back. The undersides of them look very nicely rounded.

Her mounds are a milky white. On their tips are a pair of wide rings in a shade that's a mix of purple and brown. But it's a light hue, not a deep or dark one. Centered in each ring is a nipple as wide as a marble. It's the same shade, only deeper, than the ring around it. And now those nipples are swollen up like little rods, rising a good ¼" off her mound with sides that are almost straight and gently rounded tips.

Casey stands there, quickly folding her bra and adding it to the pile as I eye her breasts over. She must be aware that I'm checking them out, sizing them up. I can see a little bit of redness blooming in her cheeks. But what woman wouldn't be embarrassed to have her breasts appraised by another, especially by another woman who will have a critical eye as she does? I see her eyes darting to me, only to dart back away as she sees my eyes upon her chest.

Unfortunately for Casey, she's worn a skirt today. It's a modest one, covering her down to her knees and leaving only her calves exposed. And it's loose on her, masking as much of her shape as it shows. Its waistband is also the next highest thing on her body. She's able to stall for a minute or so by taking off the belt she has on with it. But then there's nothing left for her to stall with.

Her hands go to the zipper at the back of the skirt. Then they start fumbling badly. The zipper must slip from her fingers half a dozen times before she finally manages to get it all the way down. She freezes like that, the skirt in her quivering hands, and just stands for a couple of seconds. She turns her eyes from me, staring at a blank wall. She starts to slip her skirt down. Her hands tremble so much that the skirt slips from her fingers and falls to the floor. It comes down far faster than it was going to in her hands. As she loses her grip, Casey lets out a surprised squeal.

She very quickly squats down and grabs her skirt. It takes her several long seconds to step out of it. And then several more to start rising up again.

Now I can see that she's wearing a pair of white panties. They're satin, with a silky look to them. They have a little lace trim on them, but it's not a frilly, delicate, or really sexy lace. It's still cute, though. Her panties are fairly modest, too. They're "boy shorts." the kind with wide sides that fully cover her bottom and pubes. But they're also cut slightly low on her hips.

Now I can see a lean and flat stomach over equally lean hips. Hips that have just enough padding on them that they don't show their bones and have a nice curve to them. A curve that matches the delicate, feminine curve to her waist. Her skin might not be as elastic as it once was, but it's still taut and doesn't show any sag to it all. I don't even see a single stretch mark from her pregnancy. But I do see fairly lean thighs now, too.

Casey gets a moment to stall. She's got some jewelry on her hands and wrists that she can take off. She doesn't hurry either, knowing that once that's off, she's not going to have a choice. Those panties are coming off.

She reaches to the waistband at her hips. It takes her a couple of tries to get her fumbling fingers slipped under the fabric. Then it takes her a couple of more seconds to work up the nerve to start pushing them down. When she does, they move slowly. Not as if she's trying to tease me, but as if she's reluctant to slide them down. It's still a tease, though. It might be her shyness, but any guy would see it as sensual.

Very slowly they slide down. As they do, they begin to bare a full bush of dense black curls. Curls that are long and tangled together. It doesn't take me long to notice that her bush isn't trimmed. The lines aren't sharp or neat. They're natural.

Eventually, it reveals a very puffy and pronounced pussy mound. It's well-furred, but the fur doesn't come close to hiding its puffiness. I can see a pair of long and wide lips that are plump and thick. And from the front, I can see the line of a deep slit where the puffiness fully meets. Once she's bared all of her pussy, her hands move a lot fast to slide the panties down her legs. She stumbles as she steps out of them, but that doesn't slow her down. Those panties are quickly folded up and on the pile.

It leaves her only one thing to take off. Her shoes. A pair of white pumps with medium-heels. I'd say 2 ½" heels, but I'm guessing. Not quite "fuck-me" pumps, but ones that still look good under the skirt. Ones that lift her heels enough to bring out the shape of her calves, too. She takes her time, her hands unsteady, as she takes those off. She stays down, fully squatting, the entire time.

Finally, Casey rises to stand up. She faces me, averting her eyes. In a quiet voice that cracks with her embarrassment, she recites the line she's heard Joey say plenty of times. "Miss Rodgers, I am completely naked now, Ma'am."

I pick up my cane. The very same one I just used on Joey. I hold it up in front of Casey's eyes, leaving her no choice but to get a good look at it. I see her eyes trying to shift away so she doesn't have to see the cane, but she can't move them enough to get it out of her sight. It doesn't take a second for me to see the nervous trembling on her body.