Portrait of a Disciplinarian by Aishling Morgan Page B

would get a prime view of her spanking, even if they were too far away to see exactly who was getting her bottom attended to. There was also a good chance of somebody coming along the path, and then there would be no doubt at all, at which thought her struggles redoubled and her protests turned to wordless shrieks.
    ‘Do stop making that awful noise,’ Hermione said calmly as she tightened her grip. ‘Do you want somebody to see you getting it?’
    ‘No!’ Stephanie squealed. ‘But they’re bound to, if –’
    ‘Then be quiet,’ Hermione interrupted. ‘I can’t see anybody at all. Now do try not to be such a baby. It’s only a spanking.’
    ‘A spanking from you!’ Stephanie gasped.
    ‘Why shouldn’t I spank you?’ Hermione asked. ‘You spank me.’
    ‘Not for ages!’
    ‘That’s hardly the point, is it?’
    ‘I’m older than you!’ Stephanie howled. ‘I had to spank you, sometimes.’
    ‘And today I have to spank you,’ Hermione told her, ‘so at least try and take it like a lady.’
    Stephanie scowled as she remembered all the times she’d used exactly the same phrase to her sister. She’d stopped struggling, exhausted and knowing it was useless, but she hadn’t given up completely.
    ‘I was only pretending, H.,’ Stephanie lied. ‘I wasn’t really going to do you, I promise.’
    ‘What utter nonsense!’ Hermione said with a laugh. ‘And just for being such a liar, I shall do you bare.’
    ‘As if you wouldn’t anyway,’ Stephanie said sulkily. ‘Come on, H., please let me up. You’ve proved you can do it, this is ever so much more humiliating for me than it would be for you, and …’
    ‘I have my hairbrush in my bag,’ Hermione said, ‘and if you don’t shut up I shall use it. The more fuss you make, the longer this is going to take.’
    It was another of her favourite phrases, inherited from her Great-aunt Victoria. Stephanie shut up. She grimaced in horror as her union suit was opened, deliberately slowly, so that she could experience every moment of her exposure. As the recipient of so many spankings herself, Hermione knew exactly what to do to play upon her victim’s feelings. She started at the top. Stephanie felt the air on her skin as the button over the small of her back was opened to reveal no more than a small diamond of flesh, down to where the next button closed the suit at the top of her bottom crease. That too came open and she had a little slit showing; then the next, and soon her cheeks were almost entirely on view as her union suit fell open.
    ‘Properly bare, of course,’ Hermione said complacently, and her hand burrowed between her sister’s thighs.
    As the button over her quim was tweaked open Stephanie let out a weak sob. She was now showing from the small of her back downwards, with only the flaps of her union suit to preserve a last scrap of modesty, which she knew was about to be stripped away. Sure enough, Hermione’s thumbs dug into the split of the union suit, stayed as they were for a long moment to allow Stephanie to appreciate her exposure, and hauled wide.
    Fully unveiled, Stephanie felt huge behind, her bottom a fat ball of girlflesh thrust out to the moor in a taut circle of white silk and lacy trim. Worse still, the tension of her open suit had made her cheeks part, adding to her woes the exposure of her bottom hole, while her quim was also on full, vulgar display. Hermione gave a low chuckle at the sight and settled one hand on to Stephanie’s bottom, gently.
    ‘It is an absolute disgrace, the frequency with which you require spanking, Stephanie,’ Hermione lectured in a near-perfect imitation of their great-aunt’s voice, ‘but what must be done must be done.’
    As she spoke she began to spank, applying a single, firm swat across the meat of her sister’s cheeks. Stephanie gave a broken wail as Hermione’s hand landed, not at the pain but at the raw emotion of having her bottom smacked by her own baby sister. A second smack