Roger Benson, “Bare Bottomed at Birchwell” Chapter 9: A Distressing Dream

Bare Bottomed at Birchwell by Roger Benson, 1962

With selected drawings by Miss Fran

Edited by Mrs. Angie Heart

Published by Bared Affair Publications

Chapter 9: A Distressing Dream

As faithful readers will recall, matronly Miss Agatha Webster devoted the summer of 1962 to the training of her niece, lovely Lorna Jane Welworthy, and her friend’s daughter, pretty Patsy Maidenly. At Birchwell, Miss Webster’s large Sussex estate, the woman saw to it that the girls would develop into young ladies of character and authority.

Miss Webster sat behind her imposing desk in her richly panelled library at Birchwell. As usual, her morning post had been opened, sorted, and neatly stacked by Miss Frobisher. Also as usual, any missive deemed unworthy of Miss Webster’s attention had been consigned to the dustbin by her trusted personal assistant.

There was one unopened exception. It was a nine inch by twelve inch plain brown paper envelope, bearing postage of the United States of America, and addressed “Personal and Confidential” to Miss Agatha Webster, O.B.E.

Miss Webster attended to her opened correspondence first, briskly making notations for action on several items with her gold S. J. Dupont pen. Then she took up her Georgian silver letter opener, its handle bearing the initials “A. F. W.”, the “F” standing for Miss Webster’s middle name, Forsythe. She slit the brown paper envelope open and shook out the Summer 1962 issue of Discipline Digest, a Consolidated Publications production edited by Mr. Billy Hackmore, the world famous reporter and writer on matters of domestic discipline.

Illustration by Miss Fran.

Taking a sip of pungent Lady Grey tea from the Royal Crown Derby cup at her right hand, the woman’s coolly intelligent eyes scanned the lead article, enticingly entitled “Affectionate Correction” by Mr. Hackmore.

The article was in large part based on a letter Mr. Hackmore had received from Mrs. Grace Barrett of Victoria, Canada. In her letter, Mrs. Barrett reported that her only child was a shapely, attractive, and raven-haired nineteen-year-old miss named April, who was ever-deferential to her strict mother.

“My darling daughter,” Mrs. Barrett observed, “is a shy and sensitive girl with a great interest in doing watercolours of flowers and writing poetry. Accordingly, I have enrolled her in Miss Simpson’s Academy for the Gentle Arts, a highly esteemed institution where April has had an opportunity to meet other girls of our social level and also acquire skills that will suit her for employment with a local company that produces greeting cards for all occasions. Mr. Bletchley, the proprietor of the firm, has seen examples of April’s work and has spoken most positively about its attributes. She has an exciting future ahead of her!

“My April is an exceptionally polite and generally well behaved girl. However, at times she can be a little forgetful about her responsibilities and a trifle ‘scatterbrained’, to use the colloquial expression. On such occasions, I summon her to my large and well-appointed bedroom for a little mother-daughter chat.

“I seat myself on a sturdy, armless chair while April stands in front of me, holding her skirt up with her arms behind her back. Naturally, at her grown-up age she is considerably embarrassed to be exposing her pretty little panties, the tautly suspendered tops of her sheer nylon stockings, and her beautifully rounded, bare upper thighs. Her sweet tears of remorse trickle slowly – but convincingly – down her shame red cheeks.

“While I lecture her on the fine points of behaviour and discipline, April’s tear-filled eyes frequently steal frightened glances at the oval-shaped, glossy black, hard-backed hairbrush that is sitting on its bristles on the small table next to my chair.”

Miss Webster looked at the illustration accompanying Mrs. Barrett’s letter. The picture had been executed by Miss Fran, a most capable illustrator of domestic discipline scenes. In her artistical depiction, she had captured that truly wonderful moment where Mrs. Barrett was lowering her darling daughter’s panties while the unhappy girl tearfully looked at the hairbrush that would soon be stinging her shapely bare buttocks!

Mrs. Barrett continued by writing, “After I have lowered April’s panties to her rounded, nyloned knees, I direct her to get over my knee. As soon as she is in position, I encircle her shapely waist with my left arm and hold her as closely as possible to ensure that she experiences a feeling of love and security. On such occasions, I experience an intense emotion of love and closeness for my darling daughter and, although she is a very well developed young lady in sheer nylon stockings and spike-heeled pumps, I think of her as my adorable little girl.

“Then I pick up my hairbrush. Although, quite understandably, April cannot help sobbing, squealing, and squirming as the hairbrush does its work, she never shrieks or kicks excessively. Also, she never tries to plead with me to lessen the punishment. To her great credit, April is a girl who understands that ‘Mother Knows Best’!

“Because of her excellent attitude, I am invariably more lenient with her. Indeed, it is not my desire to cause any bruising or blistering of my darling daughter’s delectable derriere. My policy it to spank until her bare buttocks and the backs of her thighs are a pretty shade of rosy red and her tears are flowing copiously.

“I know that, after a spanking, some mothers require their daughters to stand in the corner, holding their skirts up with their panties down. I never do this. Instead, a tearful, bare bottomed April is invited to sit on my lap with her arms around my neck while we have a nice long session of ‘kiss and make up’. The result of this is that April knows that ‘all is truly forgiven’ and that I love and care for her more than words can express. Speaking of words, it is not unusual – on such occasions – for April to whisper in my ear, ‘Ohhh, M-Mummy… I-I l-love you s-so…’

“Apart from the periodic spankings, I find the only discipline darling April requires in an occasional enema. I always precede these by taking her temperature while she lies bare bottomed on the metal enema table. I’m sure you can guess where I put the thermometer!

“I am entirely convinced that if more mothers and daughters had the type of relationship April and I have, the world would indeed be a happier place!”

The letter concluded with Mrs. Barrett’s warm regards and best wishes for the continued success of Discipline Digest. These kind sentiments elicited Mr. Hackmore’s fulsome thanks and the delightful editorial observation that he would arrange for Miss Fran to be in touch with Mrs. Barrett in order to obtain a bit more information on her enema procedures so she could prepare a charming illustration for a future edition of the magazine!

Bare Bottomed at Birchwell

Meanwhile, back at Birchwell, lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy were continuing to learn their lessons as they were prepared for the demands of being “perfect young ladies in polite society.”

Yesterday, the two girls had written a three hour exam on the niceties of etiquette and “appropriate manners for all occasions.” The passing mark had been set at 70 percent. (It was Miss Webster’s practice to vary the passing mark depending on the subject material and how far the girls had advanced in their studies of a particular area.) Lorna Jane, to her enormous relief, managed a 74. Poor Patsy came in just under the bar at 68. In an act of leniency, Miss Webster allowed the punishment cane – Mr. Bendy – to remain on his hook and instead sentenced pretty Patsy’s girlishly plump posterior to a strict bare bottom ruler smacking in “The Classroom.”

As soon as Miss Webster had finished with her mail and – in particular – her reading of Discipline Digest, she walked down to “The Classroom” and was pleased to see that – under Miss Frobisher’s beady-eyed supervision – the two girls were busily memorizing passages from Prunella Chiswick’s learned text on afternoon tea parties. Both girls were concentrating just as hard as they could with good reason! Later that afternoon – in the Conservatory Tea Room at Birchwell – a full “dress rehearsal” would be held, the cast comprising Miss Webster, Miss Frobisher, Lorna Jane, and Patsy.

And, indeed, later that afternoon the quartet were seated at the attractively-laid tea table. Lorna Jane and Patsy looked quite lovely in their pretty, form-fitting suits, complimented by sheer tan nylons, white “pill-box” hats, little white gloves, and matching glossy white patent pumps with high spike heels. The two maids, Shirley and Marie (understandably on their very best behavior!) hovered obediently in the background, ready to serve with humble alacrity!

The only slightly odd notes were that Basil Warpington, also hovered in the background, snapping photographs and Mr. Bendy, glowing in the late afternoon sunshine, rested on a chair over by the wall.

Although the tea and cakes were delicious, Lorna Jane and Patsy were much too apprehensive to appreciate the treats. They were only too well aware that they were being closely appraised for their table manners, their knowledge of the English afternoon tea ritual, their ability to make light conversation, and much else! Also, the two girls found the presence of Mr. Warpington and Mr. Bendy most disconcerting. Indeed, they had little difficulty imagining what might happen!

Fortunately, for lovely Lorna Jane and pretty Patsy, nothing did. Their performance was judged satisfactory and Miss Webster then announced that both girls would be permitted to attend a late supper party to be held in Birchwell’s Grand Dining Hall. The guests would include His Lordship, Justice Bleary and The Reverend Goodsoul, the village vicar. Mr. Warpington and the inevitable Miss Frobisher would also be in attendance.

Patsy was seated next to Basil Warpington, who made the poor girl squirm and blush with his frequent and pointed questions about her life in Indiana and whether or not “her boyfriend” had perhaps taken photographs of her.

As for Lorna Jane, she was seated next to The Reverend Goodsoul who, between giggles and titters, asked the girl about “her lad back home” and counseled her on the many benefits of mortification of the flesh – especially when that flesh was as succulent and shapely as Lorna Jane’s!

His Lordship Justice Bleary drained a glass of vintage claret and uttered a sonorous “Harumphh!”, a clear signal that he was about to speak. All fell silent as, for the next hour, The Learned Justice – whose knowledge of English judicial history was encyclopedic – regaled the table with details of a number of, shall we say, particularly “lurid” cases. He even reached back to the olden times when pirates roamed the seven seas and those who were captured by The Royal Navy were returned to Merrie England for swift and sure justice!

Walking the Plank

By the time Lorna Jane was ready to undress, perform her ablutions, and go to bed, the poor girl was utterly exhausted. Naughtily putting on only the top part of her baby doll pajamas, the girl slipped under the crisp, fresh sheets that adorned her comfortable bed and promptly fell asleep.

About two hours after slipping into the arms of Morpheus, Lorna Jane began a strange dream in which she was a shapely, attractive sailorette aboard the HMS Bluebell, a small, sail-powered vessel whose crew of pretty young girls, gently guided by the kindly Captain Claire, visited tropical isles to gather specimens of pretty flowers.

Suddenly, the pleasant dream turned into a nightmare! A large, dark-hued sailing ship – sporting the dreaded Jolly Roger – appeared on the horizon and soon overtook the Bluebell! Within short order, the strict-looking lady pirates had boarded the Bluebell and began to tie up their hapless young captives.

Lorna Jane was aghast to discover that the Pirate Captain was none other than her Aunty, Miss Webster, clad in full piratical regalia! After the Bluebell’s meagre treasure had been looted, Pirate Captain Agatha Webster turned to her tearful niece and commanded, “You shall walk the plank, my beauty!”

Poor Lorna Jane found herself wearing only her perky little sailorette cap, tight red and white striped top, and spike-heeled pumps. Her wrists tied behind her back, the frightened girl was made to stand on a sturdy length of plank that terminated over the open, shark-infested ocean.

“Start walking, dear,” Captain Agatha ordered in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

“Ouuhhh, M-Mistress C-Captain,” a tearful Lorna Jane implored, “M-Must I?”

“Yes, dear.” Captain Agatha was pleasant but insistent. “You must.”

Lorna Jane began to take tiny, reluctant little spike-heeled steps that caused her girlishly plump bare buttocks to jiggle and sway most appealingly. At the end of the plank, Lorna Jane froze, squealing out “Ouuuhhhh, n-no… P-Pleeeeeease, no!”

“Dive in, dear,” Captain Agatha directed with a chuckle, punctuating the command with two quick flicks of her rapier that marked a red “X” on Lorna Jane’s juicy left buttock. With a desperate shriek, the girl fell forward!

Illustration by Roger Benson.

Lorna Jane awoke in a cold sweat, aware of a sharp pain in her lovely left buttock. A spring from the mattress has pierced the padded cover and found its delectable target!

The girl’s shrill outcry awakened Miss Frobisher, whose private suite was just down the hall. The older woman arrived almost immediately, clad in her neck to toe flannel nightgown and slippers.

Happily, Lorna Jane’s wound was minor and Miss Frobisher quickly set it right with some stinging alcohol and a band-aid. Then the older woman escorted Lorna Jane – who was wearing only her baby doll pajama tops and spike-heeled fluffy slippers – to her private quarters and, taking her charge to bed, enveloped the girl in a motherly hug. “There, there, dear,” Miss Frobisher’s tone was kindly and comforting. “You’ve just had a bad dream.”

Comforted and reassured, Lorna Jane soon fell asleep again. Despite her numerous frightening attributes, her Aunty Agatha was not the Dreaded Pirate Queen of the Sea! Finally, Lorna Jane was exempted from all forms of “bottom justice” until her succulent posterior had been restored to pristine, peerless perfection – something that did not take very long, alas!

Continue reading – Bare Bottomed at Birchwell Chapter 10: Darling Daughter’s Discipline by Roger Benson

More Roger Benson spanking illustrations and links to all three of his novellas here.

Smiles and Spanks,

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