Search This Blog

Friday, 27 September 2019

The General and the Naughty Girl

Story by Elaine Smith from Kane 78.
Angie Davis was in a foul temper as she walked across the common. Her day at work had culminated in a stand-up row with her boss and even now, half an hour later she was still fuming at the injustice of it. Monthly targets showing the amount of post unanswered were a constant thorn in the side of the department she worked in and the office manager was determined for her own career to show that her staff were performing efficiently. Angie was a star performer and because of that she found herself every month having to bail out Mandy Robinson’s arrears. That would not have been too bad if she was shown some recognition for the additional effort that she put in but her boss was more concerned with securing her own promotion than with worrying about Angie’s position. Anyway, if Angie moved up to another department on promotion, who would she be able to count on to get the work done? Angie was in a classic Catch-22 situation. Today had been the final straw and the request to take on a little extra work as the month-end was looming had escalated into a public shouting match. In the end she had snatched her bag from the floor and stormed out of the office for an early weekend.
The bus ride home was short but gave her the opportunity to dwell on the detail of the argument and to replay in her mind the words she had and should have used as the situation got worse. These thoughts were still ricocheting around her head as she jumped off the bus and made her way across the common. Minding his own business in front of her was Jamie Thompson, who was unlucky enough to be kicking his new football around as she approached. He was only ten years old and terrified of Angie, who he had once seen in a fight with his elder sister.
Jamie’s ball control was not everything it might have been and with one kick, he sent it scooting over the grass towards her. As he focused on who she was, he froze in fear. The ball hit her gently on the ankle, but it badly disturbed her thought process and her reaction was to turn and boot it as hard as she could in the opposite direction. Her timing was perfect and the ball sailed into the air, over the adjacent fence and straight through the kitchen window of the nearby house. The glass shattered on impact and Angie, with the reality of what she had done rapidly becoming clear to her, panicked and ran. The occupant, a burly man in his late middle age, stormed out of the back door, up the garden path and through the back gate. Jamie Thompson was still frozen to the spot and Angie had vanished.
Her timing was perfect
‘Is this your football?’ bawled the man. Little Jamie nodded that it was, too shy and too fearful to try to explain what had happened. The man dropped the ball to the ground and let it bounce once, then he gave it an almighty kick that launched it into the clear blue sky. ‘Then I suggest you go and collect it,’ the man bellowed, ‘And make no mistake, boy. If it happens again there will be Hell to pay!’ The back door slammed shut and for a moment, the common returned to its previous summer tranquillity.
Angie had taken refuge behind a tree and shocked by the man’s reaction, she crept back to the rear gate. Even from that distance she could hear the sobs of the boy, their intensity rising and falling in obvious reaction to what had been said to him, and she felt her stomach churn with guilt. Thankfully, he soon reached where his ball had landed and quickly picked it up before scurrying back across the freshly mown grass towards Angie as he made his way home. Angie’s face was a picture of concern as she looked into his tear-stained face. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘Are you alright?’ Jamie nodded and said the shock of the incident had really frightened him. Angie clasped her arms around him in a hug of comfort and they sat for some time on the common until she was satisfied that he had recovered enough to make his way home without causing his parents anxiety. Fearful at the possible repercussions of her own part in the proceedings she quietly asked Jamie not to mention what had happened. His nod was the comfort she needed.
Suddenly the worries of work seemed a long way away, and as she made her way home, she became increasing distressed by the unfairness of little Jamie’s ordeal and her part in it. At the same time, another emotion was also fighting for dominance and her mind began to be taken over by a series of heavy sexual fantasies which, she slowly realised, this episode gave her the perfect opportunity to fulfil. That night and the next day too, she could not get these thoughts out of her mind and by the following evening she realised that she had to visit the house-owner to own up to her crime. She already knew him by sight and she had exchanged the odd friendly comment with him when they had passed in the street. He was a retired general, who had moved to the village after his wife had died. From her brief contact with him, he seemed a decent man although she could appreciate his annoyance at having his window smashed. As dusk fell, she called round to see him.
‘General Fitzsimmons, I have a confession to make. May I come in?’ The general’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and pleasure at the sight of his unexpected caller.
‘Of course you can, my dear. Go through to the lounge and make yourself comfortable. I’ll put the kettle on for some tea.’
Angie settled herself into one of the large comfortable armchairs and, without any obvious embarrassment, explained over a cup of tea just how the broken window had been caused.
‘So you see, General, when you shouted at little Jamie Thompson, it should have been me you were shouting at.’
The general put down his teacup. ‘It must have taken some courage to come here and tell me that,’ he said. ‘There are not many young people who would have done so. I suppose that I did act rather hastily in blaming Jamie, but what’s done is done. I have not had his parents round, so I assume that he has chosen not to tell them and I should be grateful for that. Let’s just forget it, shall we, and put it down to experience.’
Angie was not to be put off now that she had got this far and she seized the moment. ‘But, General, we can’t just leave it there. I know I can’t undo Jamie’s humiliation, but I can at least be punished for the crime as well.’
‘Punished, eh?’ said the General. ‘If young Jamie was your age, I’d have given him half-a-dozen whacks with my leather tawse, but I can’t possibly do that to you. You’re a young lady.’
Angie’s eyes narrowed. ‘So what is your objection, General? Is it that I am a girl or is it that I’m too old? If it is because I’m a girl, then you’re a sexist pig. Boys and girls should be treated equally, irrespective of sex. If a beating was the right punishment for a boy, it should be for a girl as well. If, on the other hand, you think I’m too old at eighteen, then you are just wrong. My mother still has to discipline me sometimes at home with a smack and really, if I behave like a child, then I can’t be too old to be treated like one, can I?’ The logic was powerful, not that General Fitzsimmons was anxious to debate the matter. It was not every day that a pretty young girl knocked on his door, insisting on a spanking.
‘Well, my dear, I can see that your mind is made up and I have to say that I shall be delighted to give you six strokes with the tawse.’
‘No, no, that’s no good at all. If that’s the punishment that you’d give to Jamie, then mine must be harder, because my crime was worse. Not only did I break your window, but I also let him take the blame, when I could have owned up on the spot. I acted like a coward.’
Angie, I can only punish you for what you did to my property. I do not have any role as a moral guardian nor any right to criticise you for letting Jamie take the blame. That is a matter between you and him.’ Even as he was speaking, the general could hardly believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Of course it was a worse offence for not owning up, so why was he making this ridiculous speech? As he looked into her face, he knew — it was fear, fear of putting himself into a sexual situation with an attractive young girl.
‘But General, please. Jamie is only ten, I can hardly ask him to punish me and I daren’t speak to his parents. They’ll only blame you for acting hastily and the whole thing will get out of hand. You’re the only one who I can trust to be fair.’
The general pondered. She certainly had a point and if she went to the boy’s parents, that would put him in a difficult position if he was asked to explain his actions. He was conscious of his own guilt at the affair. He looked up at Angie’s anxious face and nodded. ‘I agree. What do you have in mind?’
With his acknowledgement, Angie’s face broke into a wide smile. What a pretty girl she was! ‘Well,’ she started, ‘if you’d give Jamie six strokes, I should have at least eight — and you must take my knickers down and give them to me across my bare bottom.’ The words raced out of her mouth indicating that she was perhaps not quite as calm as her body language indicated.
The general was momentarily stunned into silence. His initial reaction had been that she was playing a practical joke on him and that once she had led him on so far, she would laugh in his face and run out of the house. Now, however, her behaviour and language had taken things past that point and he realised that she was serious. She was clearly a very forward girl and although he was aware from his own past that woman often derived great pleasure from the tingle of a well-smacked arse, he had never had a request for one put to him in such direct terms before. Having seen through the flimsy excuse to the real purpose of Angie’s visit, the general threw himself into the role that he had been awarded:
‘Very well, young lady. Eight strokes it is and I shall not be lenient with you either. I take it you would like to be punished straight away.’
Angie looked him straight in the eye and nodded. Her face was still dominated by a wide and friendly smile. How could anyone be happy about letting themselves in for a dose of the tawse? No matter, if she saw it through, she certainly wouldn’t be smiling at the end of it.
The general walked over to a bureau and took a length of leather from the top drawer. It was about eighteen inches in length and split into two at one end. ‘Have you seen one of these before?’ he asked. Angie shook her head and he handed it to her to inspect. From the expression on her face and the closeness with which she scrutinised its every detail, he could see that she was fascinated by it.
‘How long have you had it?’ Her eyes did not leave the strap as she spoke.
‘It’s been in the family for as long as I can remember. My father often used it on my sister and I to try to keep us in line. My son and daughters have also tasted its bite, but it has been out of use for a number of years now, though I do oil it every now and then just to keep the leather supple.’
She handed it back and started to unbuckle the belt of her jeans. The General felt obliged to offer her again the chance to keep her trousers on. ‘No, we’ve been through this before, General Fitzsimmons. I deserve a thrashing on the bare and that’s what you must give me. It won’t be a proper punishment otherwise.’ With that, she unzipped the flies and, after kicking off her shoes, she tugged the tight jeans down her legs and stepped out of them. In her short T-shirt and lacy white knickers and with her ruffled hairstyle and tanned skin, she would not have looked out of place on the pages of any high fashion magazine. As he surveyed the vision before him, the General could not have been more astonished with the turn of events if he had been told that he had won the top pay-out on the Football Pools.
She tugged the tight jeans down her legs
‘Do you want me across your knee or shall I touch my toes?’ she asked. The General cleared his throat before leading her towards the bureau. ‘I think perhaps that if you rest your arms on the top of this, you will find yourself in a suitable position. Of course, it will also support you when the tawse starts to have effect.’ Angie leaned forward and rested her forearms onto the top, with her palms placed on top of each other and her fingers stretched out. Her legs were slightly apart and the flesh in her bottom filled as she lowered her head to rest on her hands. At the same time, she arched her back and felt her leg muscles tense at the position she had adopted. Her bum was thrust outwards provocatively and was decidedly ready for some attention.
‘You’ll have to take my knickers down for me, General,’ came a cheeky voice with a half giggle.
The general smiled and was certainly not going to turn his nose up at the offer. Reaching forward he gently and ever so slowly helped the panties down to a position around mid-thigh, where the spread of her legs kept them helpfully supported. As each inch of her gorgeous bottom was revealed, the general’s face blushed to a darker shade of red. He could feel the smooth skin of her hips brushing across his fingers to add to the excitement. With the knickers out of the way, he stood back to admire the view. Her arse was as beautiful as every other part of her delightful body and it was a privilege to see it. Her all-over tan betrayed her passion for nude sunbathing and the bronzed skin created a delightful contrast to the pure white cotton of her T-shirt and lowered knickers. Framed as it was by white material, her bottom made a sexy display and one, he thought, that could only be improved upon by a reddening of the cheeks.
‘If you’re comfortable, my dear, here comes the first one,’ he said.
He waved the tawse in the air a couple of times and whacked it down onto her bottom. Her body jerked slightly on impact, but quickly relaxed.
Her body jerked slightly on impact
‘How did that feel?’ he asked. ‘Was it too hard?’
‘Stop worrying about me!’ she remonstrated with him. ‘Just give it to me properly.’
Stirred by her arrogance, he instinctively raised his arm higher and thrashed it down for the second stroke. ‘Ooh!’ came the response as her bottom-cheeks filled with colour.
The third stroke was harder still and landed with a disturbingly loud crack. ‘Ooh. Ooh.’ Angie’s bottom was smarting badly now, but she was determined to see the punishment out. It was clear to the general from the colour of her buttocks the success he was having and inspired he delivered the fourth stroke with force, lower down to extend the coverage. ‘Ow!’ That one certainly hit the mark, he mused. Laying the tawse down for a moment he ran his hands across the reddened skin to feel the heat and to check for abrasions. Angie made no protest and probably she was glad of the respite. In a way the gentle touch of his hands was soothing, almost as if it was sucking the pain away through his fingers.
‘No real damage, yet, my dear. Looks like I’ll have to try a little harder,’ he said, and with that picked up the tawse to continue the beating.
The fifth stoke snapped against the glowing cheeks leaving a scarlet horizontal imprint across the already rosy hemispheres. ‘Ooh!’ Angie’s moaning started again and involuntarily her body jerked upwards, her hands reaching behind her to rub her buttocks. Immediately, however, she realised what she was doing and resumed her position. Number six landed even before she had a chance to take breath and struck directly on top of the marks of the fifth, to scold the already burning sensation. Angie jumped up again to rub the pain away and this time she was not so quick to bend back down.
‘Do you want to stop now?’
Angie looked up at him. Her eyes were no longer shiny and challenging and her expression had become demure, even subservient. However, beneath the veneer, her spirit remained strong, and despite the soreness, she was certainly not going to quit. ‘No way,’ she whispered. ‘Punish me hard.’ With that she lowered herself back into position. She’s certainly got pluck, thought the General and drew back his arm to deliver the seventh blow. It whipped in low and hard, as requested. Angie had clearly steeled herself for that one and her only reaction was a short period of heavy breathing as she struggled mentally with the pain. For the general, the red buttocks were a distinct turn-on and his problem now was to avoid showing Angie just how excited he had become.
‘Last stroke,’ said the general, and raised his arm high to thwack the tawse down for the final time. It was a powerful blow and landed with a resounding splat across those delicate cheeks. ‘Oh! Ow! Ooh!’ Angie could not contain herself any more and she sprung upwards to give her hands access to her burning rear. The general laid down the tawse and sat down to let her recover. She continued to rub furiously for about half a minute and still with her back to him, bent fully over to gather up her knickers, which had inevitably tumbled to the floor in the action. Not for the first time that evening the general found himself blushing and even averting his eyes momentarily. Angie scrabbled round for her jeans and with some difficulty inched them back on, the tightness of the material exacerbating the soreness she felt.
She turned to the general and bent low to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘I knew that I could trust you to treat me fairly.’ With that, she collected her coat from the chair over which she had thrown it and started for the door. The general stood to escort her out but even as the evening’s fantasy drew to a close, he was in for one more shock. In the entrance lobby, Angie turned and looking him full in the face said, ‘Now that I know I can trust you, can I come to you in future if I misbehave? Perhaps next time you can give me a long and thorough spanking?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heels and disappeared up the path, leaving the old general open-mouthed and speechless at the door. Spanking, my eye, he thought as he watched her arse bouncing away into the distance. That girl needs a good dose of the stick for her cheek. His face relaxed into a smile at the prospect and he closed the door to make plans for her next visit.


  1. Bob here.
    Nice little tale of tawse vs girl,with the usual (but happy) outcome for all concerned,it seems.
    Good fun piece.

  2. William

    that is how laurey and I spank the naughty girls at schoolwilliam

  3. e mail address is;