Roger Benson, “Bare Bottomed at Birchwell” Chapter 11: The Sorrowful Skirt Saga

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 11: The Sorrowful Skirt Saga

Billy Hackmore, the internationally famous writer and columnist on domestic discipline matters, was in a very good mood. He had just concluded putting the “finishing touches” on a special, late 1962 issue of Juvenile Justice, one of his line of publications handled by Consolidated Publishing Ltd., located in Chicago.

He was especially pleased with the lead story, “Shapely Sweetheart’s Sorrowful Skirt Saga” and the delightful Miss Fran illustration that accompanied the piece.

Regular readers of this series will know that Mr. Hackmore had previously received some very interesting correspondence from Mrs. Grace Barrett of Victoria, Canada, in which the good woman discussed the strict but very loving disciplinary practices she employed with her lovely nineteen-year-old daughter, April.

Billy Hackmore had been most pleased to receive an unexpected letter from Mrs. Barrett in which she reported on a recent, regrettable event that had involved her darling daughter. As Mrs. Barrett explained, it was a pleasantly warm morning and young April had no classes that day at Miss Simpson’s Academy for the Gentle Arts. Accordingly, the woman had sent the adorable April off to Higby’s Market for a spot of grocery shopping.

The girl wore a snug-fitting, short sleeved dark blue sweater over her bra, a tartan “wrap-around” skirt, sheer nylon stockings in an appealing coffee-hued shade, and black calfskin pumps with four-inch spike heels. The skirt was fastened around her shapely waist with a side button. Near the bottom of the garment there was a large, ornamental “safety-pin style” fastener that held the “wrap-around” skirt together. Alas, on this particular morning the fastening device would prove less than failure-proof!

April – a very well brought-up girl – said a polite “Good morning, Mr. Higby, sir,” to the bespectacled and portly proprietor and quickly went about her shopping duties.

Mrs. Barrett’s shopping list was fairly lengthy and April went about her tasks as quickly and diligently as possible. Apart from herself, the store was empty. She couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable about the way Mr. Higby’s beady eyes seemed to follow her every move. A properly brought up girl, April always bent her nyloned knees decorously when she was required to select an item from a lower shelf, much to Mr. Higby’s disappointment!

At last, the girl was at the check-out counter. With slow deliberation, Mr. Higby rang up each item. By the time he was through, April had two rather large and certainly full bags of groceries. Having paid with the money her mother had provided, the girl – struggling with the two full bags – had to push against the door to exit the shop. Mr. Higby made no effort to help her. Then tragedy struck!

The self-closing door caught a part of April’s “wrap-around” tartan skirt causing the girl to stumble forward, her bags of groceries spilling to the sidewalk. The waistband button of her skirt popped off and the “safety pin fastener” near the bottom of her skirt sprung open! “Ohhhhh… Noooooo!” April squealed haplessly as she felt her lovely lower person and its sheltering skirt part company! Billy Hackmore noted with satisfaction that Miss Fran’s splendid illustration had perfectly captured the dreadful moment.

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Illustration by Miss Fran.

Now bare from the waist down, except for her off white garter belt, little white panties, tautly suspendered nylon stockings and spike-heeled pumps, poor April burst into tears and covered her shame red face with her soft hands. Two high school youths, passing in a hot-rodded autocar, slowed to leer, emit piercing wolf whistles, and shout out lascivious remarks.

A traveling salesman type, in a loud checked suit, paused to look poor April up and down and lick his lips as if sitting down to a juicy steak dinner! All the while, Mr. Higby stood at the glass door of his shop – a smirk on his unpleasant face – all too obviously enjoying every moment of the sorrowful scene. Most fortunately, the next passerby was Mrs. Emma Slack, a kindly widow, who at once took mercy on poor April. Comforting the girl, she got the skirt back around April’s exposed hips and legs and used the safety pin device to secure the garment around the girl’s waist. She then gave April a fresh linen hankie for her tears and helped the girl to get the groceries back in their bags.

Then April walked back home, spike heels clicking. Unhappily, there had been no way to secure the rest of the skirt – the safety pin fastener now otherwise engaged in holding the skirt around the girl’s shapely waist. As a consequence, the skirt flapped with each step and a scarlet-faced April knew that she was showing off more shapely stockinged leg than any well bred girl should! Equally awful, some of the groceries had been seriously damaged in the accident and poor April had no additional funds with which to buy replacements.

As soon as the girl arrived home, she started to cry again and made a full confession to her mother, Mrs. Barrett enveloped her darling daughter in a warm hug, kissed her in a motherly fashion, and helped to dry the girl’s tears.

Then the good woman sat the girl down for a little talk. Mrs. Barrett was, of course, most sympathetic about what had happened to poor April. But she quite rightly pointed out that there was also an issue of misbehavior. Specifically, April had not shown good judgment in purchasing such a skirt. Moreover, having purchased it, she had failed to exercise the diligent skirt control required. Finally, in a relatively small city like Victoria, Canada, highly embarrassing word of the episode would get around – especially if “Scotty” MacClyde made reference to it in his widely read newspaper column, “Roond and Aboot.”

A frightened April nervously awaited the sentence of punishment that seemed inevitable. “I just don’t know what to do,” her mother observed, morosely shaking her head. Then suddenly, the woman brightened with inspiration. “I know! I’ll write Mr. Hackmore and seek his advice!”

When Billy Hackmore received the airmail, special delivery missive from Mrs. Barrett, he immediately saw the potential for a real “domestic discipline scoop”! He decided to waste no time and, instead of the postal service, he telephoned Mrs. Barrett. In the course of their most cordial conversation, Mr. Hackmore explained that he often worked closely with Mr. Elmer Snivelly, the proprietor of Popular Polls, an organization that did surveys on a wide range of issues – including domestic discipline! It was decided that Billy Hackmore would provide the details of the matter to Mr. Snivelly, who would design and conduct an appropriate poll, the results of which would be sent to both Mr. Hackmore and Mrs. Barrett.

A Punishment Poll

Approximately two weeks after her telephone conversation with Mr. Hackmore, Grace Barrett received a plain brown special delivery airmail envelope marked “Personal and Confidential” to her attention. She knew who it was from.

Late that afternoon, dear April returned home from her classes at Miss Simpson’s Academy for the Gentle Arts. The girl looked most appealing in a form fitting skirt and sweater set, sheer, tan-hued nylon stockings, and black calf skin pumps.

After giving her daughter a few minutes to put away her handbag and study materials, Grace Barrett summoned her in a pleasant tone of voice to the spacious and attractively furnished living room. “Sit beside me on the sofa, dear,” the older woman indicated, patting the cushion beside her invitingly. April sat down carefully, keeping her shapely stockinged legs tightly pressed together, her soft hands decorously folded in her lap.

Mrs. Barrett enquired in a kindly manner as to whether her daughter had had a good day at the academy. “We had a wonderful session on the wild flowers of the spring season,” April responded with enthusiasm. “There’s so much to learn in this life, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” her mother replied sagely. “And speaking of learning our lessons, dear,” Grace Barrett continued, producing the brown paper envelope, “this arrived from Mr. Hackmore today. Let’s see what’s in it, shall we?”

Suddenly, poor April became very pale indeed, her fingers trembling. The girl had been fully informed about her mother’s telephone conversation with Mr. Hackmore and the decision to do a poll. But, quite understandably, she had done her best to put it out of her mind. Now the dreaded moment was at hand!

Mrs. Barrett proceeded to carefully open the envelope. It contained two items. The first was a very friendly letter from Billy Hackmore in which he outlined his idea for a “case study” entitled “Shapely Sweetheart’s Sorrowful Skirt Saga.” The second item was the results from Mr. Snivelly’s poll. While poor April squirmed with apprehension, her mother took her time reading Mr. Hackmore’s letter. The good woman smiled to herself and even chuckled slightly at Mr. Hackmore’s skilled use of alliteration in the proposed title.

“All right, dear,” Grace Barrett put the letter to one side, “let’s see what poll results Mr. Snivelly obtained.” The poll had been based on “a cross section of concerned North American mothers” and 1,377 of this fine group had responded. April was required to look at the results along with her mother.

Three percent of the respondents felt that “Miss April B.” should be “strictly scolded” for her misbehavior. A further 4% felt that she should be required to write 500 lines stating “I promise to take proper care with my skirt control in the future.”

46% felt that the girl should be required to put on exactly the same attire as she had worn on the day of the mishap and, holding her skirt up at waist level, make twenty circuits of the living room – pausing in front of her mother after each one to say “I humbly beg to be forgiven for my foolish carelessness in public and sincerely promise to never do such a thing ever again.” After completion of her “Punishment Parade”, the girl would go over her mother’s knee for a lengthy bare bottom hairbrushing. The poll option in question further suggested that “two of mother’s best lady friends be invited to witness the proceedings.”

The final poll option – which was a narrow winner at 47 percent – was exactly the same as the option which preceded it except it added that, after the spanking, the girl should be escorted by the ladies out to the back of the house where the garbage cans were kept and deposit her accident prone skirt in the trash and also her panties – the latter having been “sullied” by being in public view. Finally, the girl would be marched by her mother up to the third floor bathroom for a disciplinary enema!

The tears were trickling down April’s cheeks by the time she finished reading the poll results with her mother. The older woman put her arm around her darling daughter’s softly sweatered shoulders. “Don’t fret, dear,” she said in a comforting tone. “A big girl like you knows that, in a democracy, the majority rules. Anyway, it isn’t going to happen for a few days, so you’ll have ample time to prepare yourself. I suggest you make a start by memorizing the formula of contrition you’ll have to say to me during the pause intervals of your punishment parade!”

Adorable April’s Appealing Anguish

It was a 3 P.M. on a pleasant Friday afternoon when Grace Barrett opened the front door of her elegant home to welcome two dear friends from the Bridge Club, Mrs. Helen Steele and Mrs. Cordelia Leigh-Hampton. Under Mrs. Barrett’s careful direction, Nellie – her housekeeper – had set out the afternoon tea things and then gratefully accepted her employer’s suggestion that she could have the rest of the day off. Soon the three handsome matrons were enjoying tea and cakes and a little local gossip as well!

After about an hour, Mrs. Barrett announced meaningfully, “I think this might be an opportune time to bring young April down.” Mrs. Steele and Mrs. Leigh-Hampton exchanged knowing smiles. They knew exactly what was going to happen! About three minutes later, Mrs. Barrett returned with April. The girl – who was dressed exactly as she was the day of her skirt disaster – looked pale and apprehensive.

“Those were very nice little cakes you baked, April, dear,” Mrs. Leigh-Hampton said. “Your mother said you prepared them to show your gratitude for our coming to witness your correction,” she added in a tone that had a rather cold edge to it.

“T-Thank you, m-ma’am…” April responded in the voice of a frightened child and kept her head deferentially bowed.

“Now, dear,” Mrs. Barrett interjected, “your skirt – the one that caused so much trouble, it’s time to get it up around your waist, both front and back, and hold it there with your hands behind your back.”

A blush of deep humiliation stained April’s ivory-pale cheeks as she obeyed the order. Soon the girl’s tautly suspendered stocking tops, ripely rounded upper thighs and her little white panties were on shaming display. The skimpy cut of the panties revealed the succulently bare lowermost curves of the girl’s pale, girlishly plump behind.

The rather uncomfortable and humiliating correction poor April was about to endure had been the last of the four poll options devised by Messrs. Hackmore and Snivelly and had been endorsed by 47 percent of the “concerned North American mothers” who had so laudably taken time from their no doubt busy schedules to provide a response. Indeed, the girl’s curves were about to feel the consequences of mass maternal judgment!

Mrs. Barrett now seated herself on a high backed wing chair. A glossy black, oval shaped wooden hairbrush sat on its bristles on a small table near the good woman’s right hand. April gave it a frightened glance. Her eyes were already glazed with tears. “Very well, dear,” Grace Barrett solemnly intoned. “It’s time. Parade!”

As directed, an audibly sniffling April began to walk in a wide circle. Following previously communicated orders from her mother, she held her shapely stockinged legs closely together, took very small steps, and was careful to place one pump-shod foot directly in front of the other, as if walking a chalk line. This mode of locomotion endowed the girl’s succulent bottom with an appealingly jouncy mobility.

Each time April’s course brought her to her mother, she paused, and head bowed in contrition stammered out – in a tear-choked voice – the “formula of repentance” she had been required to memorize. By the time the twentieth – and final – tour was complete, poor April’s cheeks were scarlet with shame and tears were dripping from her quivering chin.

Mrs. Barrett then picked up the hairbrush and walked over to a sturdy, straight backed and armless chair that had been positioned to provide Mrs. Steele and Mrs. Leigh-Hampton with an excellent view. Grace Barrett looked the very essence of strict maternal authority as she seated herself on the wooden chair. She crooked her right index finger and made a beckoning gesture to her tearful daughter. “I want you over my knee, dear.” The command was pleasantly enunciated but had an edge of steel. April obeyed at once.

Mrs. Barrett’s strong grip around April’s shapely waist ensured that the girl would stay securely and safely in place and also ensured that her skirt would remain well away from the “area of interest.” April’s little panties had already been descended to her rounded knees.

Mrs. Barrett raised the hairbrush. SMACKKK! The glossy black, oval shaped wood made stinging contact with the plumpest part of April’s lovely left buttock. The girl’s left spike-heeled pump involuntarily jerked up an inch or two as the delectable miscreant emitted a poignant squeal from her sweetly kissable mouth.

SMACKKK! THWACCKKK! Mrs. Barrett administered two brisk smacks to the backs of April’s exquisitely sensitive thighs where they were bare above the girl’s stocking tops. April emitted a high pitched “ooooouuuuuuhhhhhhh!” of distress, her lovely buttocks spasming as if in sympathy with her succulent thighs.

The woman continued the spanking calmly, systematically, and slowly. Often, she would pause to ask April a question about a fine point of behavior or discipline and then listen patiently to the girl’s blubbered-out response. Then, Mrs. Barrett would administer a crisp SMACCCKKKK!, as if to provide punctuation. Sometimes it would be two smacks, if the good woman felt additional emphasis was appropriate.

All in all, Grace Barrett’s performance was a model of what maternal discipline should be. She was kind but firm. Her hairbrush work produced the required stinging pain but no unsavoury bruising or blistering. And, although she loved her darling daughter deeply, she did not for one moment shrink from the responsibilities of her executioner’s duties.

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Illustration by Miss Fran.

When the spanking was finally over, Mrs. Barrett helped her sobbing daughter off her lap and instructed the girl to kneel before her and continue to hold her skirt up. The tearful teener was then required to kiss Mr. Hairbrush’s glossy, smooth back several times as a mark of respect and appreciation.

When this ritual was satisfactorily completed, poor April was required to remove her skirt and panties and – escorted by all three ladies – was taken out to the back of the house, where the garbage cans were located, and deposit the garments in the trash.

Back in the house, Mrs. Barrett addressed her guests while gently but firmly gripping April by an elbow. “Do enjoy another cup of tea and some more cake,” the good woman spoke in a most genial tone of voice. “April and I have something to attend to up on the third floor,” she added meaningfully, eliciting a poignant whimper from the poor girl.

“Are you sure we can’t be of assistance?” Helen Steel enquired with ill-concealed eagerness. April shuddered visibly.

“Thank you so much, Helen, dear,” Mrs. Barrett responded, “but I think I can manage this by myself.”

An hour later, Mrs. Barrett’s guests had departed and April, alone in her attractively appointed bedroom, was lying face down on her bed enjoying a good cry. Below the waist, apart from her garter belt, nylons and spike-heeled pumps, the girl was wearing the full cut but skin fitting black rubber panties that were a post-enema requirement.

April knew that what had happened to her would be fully reported in a forthcoming issue of Juvenile Justice. She also knew that – as with the two earlier editions of Discipline Digest in which she had been featured – she would be required to read the publication from cover to cover under her mother’s close supervision.

The hapless, sniffling girl shuddered as she recalled looking at Miss Fran’s illustration of her lying face down on the enema table. Looking at the illustration had caused April to vividly recall the burning, throbbing pain in her freshly spanked bare buttocks, the horrid feeling of the plump, hard rubber enema nozzle inserted to the hilt in her bottom, and the distressing sensations as the lukewarm, soapy solution began to flow into her.

Wisely, dear April repentantly resolved that she would never, ever buy such a silly skirt again. She also renewed her resolve to be “the bestest girl ever” so her mummy wouldn’t have to punish her again!

Continue reading – Bare Bottomed at Birchwell Chapter 12: The Bejeweled Box Conspiracy by Roger Benson

Also, more Roger Benson spanking illustrations here.

Smiles and Spanks,