Cheekiness Personified

Part One

(Note: The Aunt Carla's Disciplinary Studio series is an homage to Seegee's Spank Shop series.)

Amelia sat at the reception desk, sipping a cup of coffee and looking through Aunt Carla's appointments for the day. She saw that there was a mother and daughter coming together for discipline this morning, and it made her smile. She knew that being spanked by a professional disciplinarian hadn't been their idea; they had been sent by their husband/stepfather, a gentleman who called himself 'Aristotle'.

Amelia noted the ladies' ages - 50 and 25 respectively - and grinned. It was always fun to see a naughty young lady just a few years her senior brought down a notch or two, and no one did that better than her Auntie! Amelia knew that from first-hand experience. Whenever she failed to discharge her responsibilities to her aunt's satisfaction, she would end her work day kicking and struggling over Aunt Carla's knee as well.

She wondered how long it had been since the wife of 'Aristotle' had gone over someone's knee for discipline. The sight of a middle-aged woman (or man) placed over Aunt Carla's knee for old-fashioned correction was always a hoot! Not that Amelia always got to see it happen, of course. If Auntie's clients were 'good' (meaning they did not 'fight' their punishments), they got to serve their bare-bottom corner time in Auntie's studio. If they did put up too much resistance, well, Amelia had seen many a 40-or 50-year-old man or lady sobbing through their corner time in the reception area, in full view of herself and any clients who happened to be waiting for their own appointments over Auntie's knee. Occasionally, Amelia had been fortunate enough to be called into the studio on a pressing errand when an unfortunate client was still dangling over Auntie's lap; it was those times that most tested her ability to keep her professional demeanor intact. When it was a gentleman or lady her parents' age, it took every bit of her well-learned politesse to keep from bursting out laughing. On more than one such occasion, a warning glance from her Aunt had saved her bottom from the singularly unpleasant fate that might have befallen it had she given in to her natural inclination.

Amelia's reverie was interrupted by the sound of the bell tinkling as two people entered the establishment. Looking up, she saw a good-looking middle-aged woman walk in, followed by a beautiful young woman who was obviously the older woman's daughter.

"Miss Janice and Miss Sophie, I presume?" she said warmly with a smile.

"Um... yes, that's us," the older woman replied, taking in the reception area with a nervous smile. Her daughter, who was wearing a scowl that spoiled her otherwise perfect beauty, stood slouching with her hands in the pocket of her jeans. So this was Sophie, Amelia thought. The young lady whose stepfather had described as 'the personification of cheekiness'. From this her first impression of the young lady, Amelia considered that an apt description.

"Aunt Carla will be with you in just a few minutes," Amelia said, holding out a clipboard to each woman. "Be seated and fill out these forms, then bring them back to me when you're finished."

Sophie's scowl deepened. It was clear she wasn't being used to being told what to do, and the fact that Amelia was several years her junior probably made it go down that much harder.

"What do you need us to fill out forms for?" the girl demanded. That she was here under duress could not be more evident. Amelia took a deep breath and maintained her smile.

"I will gladly tell you, as soon as you amend that abominable attitude of yours."

Sophie's mouth hung open in shock, then it turned into a sneer. "Who do you think you are? You're younger than I am!"

The young receptionist's smile vanished. "I am Amelia Chance, or Miss Amelia to you," she said evenly. "I am Aunt Carla's receptionist and office manager, and yes, I'm a few years younger than you. But if you don't drop that tone, you'll find yourself over my knee long before Aunt Carla paddles your naughty behind!"

Sophie drew in breath and was about to let loose a volley in retort, but her mother intervened, taking her daughter by the arm and saying,

"Terribly sorry, Amel... uh, Miss Amelia. We're both just a little out of our element here, that's all."

"That's quite understandable, but we do not tolerate boorish behavior in this office," Amelia replied, staring down her adversary. Sophie maintained eye contact with the younger girl, wearing an expression that said, "If Mom weren't here to stop me..." Nonetheless, she went with her mother to where the chairs were and began filling out her information form, medical history, and legal release papers.

After a few minutes, Janice stood and brought the paperwork to Amelia for both of them, hardly trusting her daughter to remain civil. She had little doubt that the young receptionist was perfectly capable of carrying out her threat. Mature enough to know the better part of valor, she smiled meekly.

"Here's the lot," she said with what she hoped passed as a conciliatory smile. She knew her daughter's temper all too well, and wished to avoid a scene.

"Very good, then," Amelia said sweetly. "I'll buzz Aunt Carla and let her know you're ready to go in. Please have a seat; she may have a bit of paperwork to finish before she can see you."

"Thank you," said Janice, turning to retake her seat.

Amelia cleared her throat. "Now that you have signed in, you may consider yourself a client," she said. "As such, you will address me as 'Miss Amelia' or 'Ma'am.' Understood?"

Something flashed in the older woman's eyes, and for just a moment Amelia saw where Sophie had gotten the fire in her belly. But Janice recovered quickly, saying,

"Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss."

"No harm done, just protocol, you know." As Amelia buzzed her aunt, Sophie let out a dismissive sound, slouching as far as humanly possible in her seat. Amelia smiled, knowing that Auntie was more than equal to the task of taking this young lady in hand.

"Aunt Carla, Janice and Sophie are ready when you are, Ma'am," she said into the phone.

"Very good, Amelia, you may send them in."

Amelia stood and regarded the two ladies. "Come with me, girls," she said, unable to resist the little dig. Sophie stood up with exaggerated slowness and refused to look the other girl in the eye.

"This is stupid," she murmured under her breath, but loudly enough to be heard.

As she spoke, the door to Aunt Carla's studio swung open. Aunt Carla looked over her bifocals at the ill-mannered girl, clearly having heard her and making no effort to mask her distaste. She then took in Janice, and shook her head at the thought of a mother allowing her daughter to behave so in public. Clearly, she had her work cut out for her today.

"Janice! Sophie! You'd better both come inside, and post haste!"

Turning a delightful shade of red, both women obeyed, under the triumphal smile of a certain young receptionist. Today, she was more than usually glad that the wall between the reception area and Aunt Carla's studio was thin!

*     *     *

Part Two

Image from sarahspanksgirls.com

"Be seated immediately!" Aunt Carla said with uncharacteristic harshness, indicating the settee across from her chair. The two women, clearly cowed by her commanding tone, obeyed.

"Little Miss Sophie." Aunt Carla sat down and fixed the young woman with a severe look. "I had my intercom turned on since you entered my establishment this morning, and I heard every bit of your petulant exchange with Miss Amelia. Needless to say, I am most repelled by such an abominable attitude in one who has been sent for correction.

"And you, Little Miss Janice! Seldom have I seen a mother stand silently by while her daughter carries on so. What have you to say for yourself?"

Janice was completely unprepared for how Aunt Carla's brief lecture made her feel. She turned a very deep shade of red, and looked out the window.

"The answer is not in the trees, young lady; it is in your own head!"

"Yes, Miss; sorry Miss," the middle-aged naughty one replied, automatically reverting to the way she had spoken to her strict teachers growing up.

"Well? I am waiting for an explanation!"

Janice became slightly teary-eyed. Indeed, she hadn't been spoken to like this since she was a child, and all the feelings of a naughty little girl caught out came flooding back to her.

"Please, Miss, it isn't her fault."

The voice was very quiet. Sophie was staring at her sandals.

"No?" Aunt Carla asked the young woman. "Whose fault is it then, young lady?"

"It-It's mine, Miss," the girl replied in a near-whisper, still staring at the floor, her face a bright shade of red.

"Well, that's a bit of progress. I am pleased to see that you are not completely incapable of taking responsibility for your own behavior. Why did you speak to my receptionist in such an atrocious way, little girl? Look me in the eye and tell me."

Sophie squirmed in her seat, but managed to lift her eyes to meet Aunt Carla's.

"Be-because... well, she's... she's younger than me."

"That's 'younger than I', child. So in your view, the relative age of an individual determines whether or not one treats her with a modicum of respect?"

"No, I mean... yes, well..." Sophie's voice trailed off, and she became fascinated with her sandals again.

Aunt Carla looked at both women and let them feel the weight of her stare for a full half a minute before speaking again.

"Well. Mr. Aristotle sent you both for discipline today, and clearly not a moment too soon! He described you, Little Miss Sophie, as 'cheekiness personified', and I am inclined to agree. But it is also a mother's duty, even when her children have become adults chronologically, to correct them when they behave abominably in public. 

"Mr. Aristotle tells me that you both have a pattern of refusing to take responsibility for your behavior, and mentioned an recent incident involving the carpet at your home. Which of you would like to tell me what happened?"

Both women looked singularly uncomfortable. It was clear they both knew what Aunt Carla was referencing. They looked at each other, and something passed between mother and daughter. It was Sophie who spoke.

"I... um, I spilled a glass of wine on the living room carpet," she said softly.

Aunt Carla peered over her bifocals and fixed her with a look. 

"Young lady, Miss Amelia already advised you that you are a client in an establishment for the discipline of adults. You shall address me as 'Miss Carla', 'Aunt Carla', 'Miss' or Ma'am.' Understood?"

"Yeah... I mean, y-yes, Miss Carla."

Aunt Carla smiled inwardly, while maintaining a mask of severity. The naughty young lady had just crossed a crucial threshold in the breaking-down process, and had no idea of it.

"So. Spilling a glass of wine is an accident, not an example of naughtiness. Something else followed, did it not?"

Sophie squirmed some more, wondering just how much her stepfather had shared with this woman. "Aunt" Carla probably knew all about the exchange that had followed, but Sophie was loath to confess it before she had to.

"You will discover, young lady, that Aunt Carla is not fond of repeating herself."

Sophie sighed. "I... said something..."

"I see. And do you expect me to guess?"

"No! I mean, you... you probably know anyway, so why do I have to say it?"

Aunt Carla's eyes narrowed. The girl's typical cheekiness was trying to reassert itself.

"You have to say it because I need to hear it from you, little girl."

"Oh, alright!" Sophie said in exasperation. "He and I got into a row about it, okay?"

"Yes. He asked you-respectfully - to be more careful, because cleaning the carpet costs money. How did you respond?"

Sophie seemed to shrink into herself, which was a good sign. Her body language suggested that she was about to surrender at last.

"I... I said I didn't care about the, uh, stupid carpet."

"Hmm... not quite the adjective you used, but it will do for now." Aunt Carla turned her attention to Janice. 

"I'm sure that after that, you insisted your daughter speak more respectfully to your husband, is that right, little Jan?"

Janice's face became a whole new shade of red as she murmured, "No."

"No, what?"

"Um, no, Miss."

"Any further omissions of the proper honorifics in this studio will result in even more severe chastisement than you already have coming, young lady!"

"Y-Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss."

"Yes." Aunt Carla stood and took her time pouring herself a cup of coffee, letting them both stew for a moment. She sipped the steaming beverage and resumed her seat.

"So, how did you reply to the man to whom you owe a great debt of gratitude and all your respect?"

Janice's eyes filled with tears, but it was clear she realized the only way out of this interrogation was a confession.

"I said... I told him he cared more about the, uh, dumb carpet than his own stepdaughter."

Aunt Carla allowed herself the smallest of smiles. "Again, just like your daughter, you revise the adjective to put yourself in a better light. I can see from whence some of Little Miss Sophie's unfortunate traits derive. So, we have heedlessness and gross disrespect from Sophie, followed by a completely un-called-for reaction from you. And a little dishonesty from you both for good measure. Quite shameful, don't you agree?"

Janice studied the floor and gave the slightest of nods.

"So, is there any reason you both should not be properly chastised today, according to the wronged gentleman's wishes?" Aunt Carla asked. There was silence.

"Do you two young ladies agree or disagree that you are deserving of punishment? I shall not ask a third time!"

Aunt Carla's repeated use of diminutives for the two women, along with her strict verbal spanking, had the intended effect. Both sets of eyes were tear-filled, and their blushes were now a permanent part of their faces.

"I... I agree, Miss," Janice said softly, unable to meet the other woman's eyes.

"And you, little Sophie?"

There was still a war going on in the 25-year-old woman's mind, and it showed on her face. In spite of her incipient tears, she was still fighting being put in her place by this stranger. After a long and heavy silence, she finally replied.

"I... I guess... But are you serious about... spanking us? I mean, I'm 25, and my mom's..."

She caught herself before revealing her mother's age. Aunt Carla smiled inwardly again; this lovely young lady knew very well how to behave; it just hadn't been required of her lately!

"Yes, you are both past the age one normally associates with over-the-knee discipline," she said. "However, you have both proved Mr. Aristotle one hundred percent correct in thinking you desperately need it. Nonetheless, as a disciplinarian of naughty adults, I do not chastise anyone without their full, informed consent. So I ask you, little Miss Sophie, have you duly earned chastisement from me?" 

The inner war was over; Aunt Carla's strictness had carried the day. Sophie's tears spilled over, and she nodded her head, sobbing softly.

"I need to hear a 'Yes, Aunt Carla' from you, dear."

"Y-Yes, Aunt C-Carla!"

"Excellent. And you, little Jan? Have you the fortitude to pay for your misdeeds along with your daughter?"

Janice turned a whole new shade of red, but answered in a very quiet voice.

"Yes, Aunt Carla."

"Splendid. I take it you both have the garments I instructed Aristotle to procure for you?"

Janice picked up a suit bag. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. You shall both retire to the changing room over there and change into your Punishment Attire. Be quick about it!"

Both women stood up a bit shakily, and headed for the door opposite the one through which they had entered the studio. Aunt Carla smiled. She knew the most important elements in discipline - temporary reduction in status, verbal chastisement, admission of guilt, and agreement that punishment was deserved - had all been secured. In just a few moments, she would be administering the next important portion to both ladies: a good, old-fashioned, over-the-knee spanking for each. Mr. Aristotle was going to see a change in these two, and no mistake!

*     *     *

"You ladies have exactly 60 seconds!" Aunt Carla called in the direction of the changing room. The naughty mother/daughter pair had been in there quite long enough to be changed into their punishment attire by now. There was no doubt in Auntie's mind that this pair were going to need more than the usual first spanking.

She sat on the settee, her trusty hairbrush and wooden spoon on the counter beside her. The door to the changing room opened, and two sorry-looking little girls emerged wearing nothing but white camisoles and matching panties. Aunt Carla smiled to see that Mr. Aristotle had procured the necessary items of clothing precisely according to her instructions: both the camisoles and panties were a size too small, and the effect was clearly not lost on the naughty pair. Their tops stopped just above their navels and their considerable hindquarters were straining at the fabric of the scant panties. Auntie knew that the psychological effect of appearing for discipline wearing not only punishment clothing, but ill-fitting punishment clothing, was significant.

"Well, well!" she said. "What do I spy with my little eye? Two naughty little girls, ready to be soundly punished. Come and stand before me, ladies."

Aunt Carla stood and slapped the hairbrush meaningfully against her palm as the two approached her, their heads down and faces bright red.

"Hmm... whom shall I receive first?" she wondered aloud. "There is always the 'age before beauty' principle... but then again, you, Little Miss Janice, desperately need to see what a proper spanking looks like, as you have clearly been neglecting your motherly duty for years. Yes, I believe Little Miss Sophie shall be first. Over my knee, young lady!"

Sophie groaned audibly, none too happy to have 'first' honors in this case. Nonetheless, she draped herself over Aunt Carla's lap and hung there, feeling quite ridiculous.

"Little Jan," said Aunt Carla, "I think we'll have your hands on your head while you watch how a proper spanking is given."

Janice groaned too; it was incredibly humiliating to be dressed as she was in front of a stranger, and raising her hands above her head had the effect of baring even more of her belly. Her blush deepened as she obeyed the command.

"Very good!" said the disciplinarian. "Little Miss Sophie, why are you being punished?"

"Um... b-because I spilled wine..."

"No. As I told you before, that was merely an accident. What was the nature of your actual spanking offense?"

Sophie sighed, feeling her backside straining against the too-small panties. "I... um... uh..."

"It is a simple question, my dear, and you know the answer. Please do not waste any more of my time!"

Hanging in that most juvenile and undignified of positions, Sophie turned several shades of red.

"I... was disrespectful to my stepfather," she said breathlessly.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

As she spoke, Aunt Carla raised her right hand high.

"Tell me, little girl, when was the last time you received a real spanking?"

"Um... Uh, never, I guess."

(SMACK!!)

"OW!!"

"Never, what?" Aunt Carla demanded.

"Never, MISS!" Sophie said, her eyes filling with tears of humiliation.

"That's better. Never fear; we shall put your deprivation right, starting now."

Aunt Carla's hand came down with considerable force upon the young woman's behind.

(SMACK!!)

"OW!!" Sophie cried out, quite surprised by the sting.

"No wonder your behavior is so abominable," Aunt Carla declared. "You've never once been properly punished! Let us try to make up for lost time, my dear."

And with that, Little Miss Sophie's first-ever spanking began in earnest. Aunt Carla brought her hand down powerfully over every inch of the girl's panty-covered backside, and was treated to a symphony of distress. The young lady began kicking her bare feet almost immediately, shocked that a spanking could hurt so much. In the back of her mind was a voice saying, "So this is why spanking works so well on kids. It stings like crazy!"

"OW!! OHHH!!" she bellowed.

"Oh my dear child," Aunt Carla said without slowing her swing, "we have barely begun!"

She grabbed the hand that reached back automatically to protect the rear end currently under attack, and pinned it to the small of the girl's back.

"No, no, no! You shall not be cheated out of one bit of this spanking's sting!" 

Aunt Carla's hand danced all over the poor young thing's backside, covering it from the top of her tailbone down to her upper thighs. Each time she connected with a bit of bare flesh, the girl screamed and bucked on her lap. Before long, every bit of visible flesh was a bright pink, and Aunt Carla paused to rest.

Sophie actually began to cry real tears once the spanking stopped. Certain that it was over, she surrendered to her feeling of vulnerability and naughtiness, giving those feelings full voice. Tears stained her cheek as Aunt Carla took the waistband of the young woman's panties in hand.

"NO!!" Sophie shrieked, suddenly aware that her spanking was not over after all.

"Hush, child," Aunt Carla chided. "These panties are coming down, and you are going to feel my hairbrush on your naughty behind."

Sophie kicked wildly in protest, but her disciplinarian just put one leg over both of hers, trapping them in place. As Sophie reached back to interfere with the baring of her virgin bottom, the older lady gave her several sharp slaps across her bare thighs. They stung so badly that the girl tried to reach beyond where she could, giving Aunt Carla the opportunity to yank her panties down to mid-thigh.

"NO!! Oh, GOD!"

Auntie chuckled. "Yes, it is something of a shock when one's panties come down for a spanking for the first time," she acknowledged. "Little Jan, take note of this. When your girl is naughty, you must steel yourself against her protests and remove every shield from the area to be disciplined."

As she spoke, Auntie picked up her heavy wooden hairbrush, and rubbed the bristle side all over the inflamed skin.

"Oh! PLEASE! God, STOP!" Sophie cried out, trying to kick but finding her legs quite immobilized.

"Nonsense, child. I wouldn't think of cheating you out of the full experience you have earned."

And with that, Sophie's hairbrush spanking began. If she thought the hand spanking was impossibly painful, this far surpassed it in an instant. She bellowed quite loudly indeed, crying out lustily as the hairbrush rose and fell over and over, covering every inch of her denuded bottom.

"Are you going to show people the proper respect from now on, little girl?" Aunt Carla demanded, continuing her hairbrush assault on Sophie's tender behind.

"YES!! OW! Oh, GOD!!"

"Yes, now that you're being taught, I quite believe you!"

Aunt Carla aimed for the girl's tender sit spot and was rewarded with a wild shriek. Down the naughty girl's thighs she proceeded with the brush, until Sophie's entire backside was a uniform crimson. She was sobbing, her nose was running, and tears fell from her face to the carpet. Aunt Carla put down the brush and rocked the girl on her lap.

"There, there; it's all over now," she cooed softly. Sophie continued to cry, and Aunt Carla reached over for a handful of tissues. She cleaned the girl's nose and eyes, waiting for her to recover from her first-ever spanking.

"Very good, darling, time to sit up."

Sophie obeyed, stiffly seating herself on Auntie's lap and wincing as her sore bottom made contact.

"I-I'm s-sorry, Auntie!!" she cried, throwing her arms around the woman's neck.

"I know, dear," Aunt Carla replied, stroking her hair gently. "You were very naughty, but now you've been punished and it's all behind you, except for your corner time." 

She looked over at the child's mother, whose eyes were virtually bugging out of her head. Seeing such a strict spanking administered at close range had been truly awesome - in the original sense of that word.

"And that," said Aunt Carla to the woman standing before her, "is how it is done."

Janice had tears in her eyes, seeing the effect the spanking had had on her daughter. Clearly, it was something Sophie had been unconsciously requesting for quite some time. But having seen it up close had thoroughly cowed her mother, as she realized that she was about to be subjected to the same painful, humiliating ordeal.

"All right, dear," Aunt Carla said tenderly to the 25-year-old little girl on her lap. "It's time to trade places with your mother."

Sophie immediately stood and went to the place Janice had been standing, and put her hands on her head without being told. Janice lay across Aunt Carla's lap, feeling thoroughly surprised by her own action. It was as if she had somehow been programmed to do this against her own better judgment. Even as she lay awkwardly across the woman's lap, everything inside her was screaming at her to retreat!

"Very well, Little Miss Janice," said Aunt Carla to the middle-aged woman lying over her knee like a naughty little girl. "Why are you being punished?"

*     *     *

Afterword

Image from girlsboardingschool.com

After mother and daughter had both been properly chastised, they suffered the ultimate indignity: serving bare-bottomed corner time in the reception area. This was a penalty Aunt Carla reserved for particularly recalcitrant clients, those who fought their punishments excessively, or seemed not to have their behaviors properly modified by spankings alone. Since Sophie had shown Miss Amelia such a poor attitude that went without a rebuke from her mother, the two ladies suffered this indignity side-by-side. Unfortunately for Miss Amelia, her delight in the downfall of her young adversary overwhelmed her good judgment, and she engaged in excessive schadenfreude at Sophie's humiliation. This led in turn to the events chronicled in Miss Amelia's Punishment Letter.  

Copyright © 2011 by Aunt Carla All rights reserved