The Dress

[spankingmum8]

The Dress

For our story this time we are back in the 1950s at the home of Mr & Mrs Phillips and their 10yr old daughter Eileen. It’s Sunday morning and later the family will be going to visit relations for lunch.
‘Mum, can I go out ‘til we’re ready to go?’ asked Eileen.
‘I don’t know if you should, you’ve got that new dress on and I don’t want it getting dirty.’ Replied Mrs Phillips.
‘It won’t. I’m only going down to Sally’s. Said Eileen, trying to sound convincing.
Mrs Phillips thought for a moment.
‘Alright, but woebetide you if you get it dirty.’
‘Thanks mum, I’ll be careful.’ Assured Eileen, and off she went. Meanwhile Mrs Phillips carried on with her chores while Mr Phillips was in the living room reading the paper. About twenty minutes later this tranquil scene was broken by Eileen coming through the back door.
‘Hello dear.’ Said Mrs Phillips not bothering to look round, ‘You’re back early, Sally not in?’
‘Yes, she was in but there’s been a sort of accident.’ Said Eileen nervously.
‘Oh yes, and what was that? Asked Mrs Phillips looking round. What she saw made her hit the roof.
‘Your dress, what have you done.’ She screamed leaving her work.
‘It wasn’t my fault.’ Pleaded Eileen as Mrs Phillips glared at her, hands on hips. ‘A car splashed me in a puddle’
‘A likely story, knowing you, you probably jumped in the puddle yourself’ snapped a furious Mrs Phillips.
‘No I didn’t.’ said Eileen looking down at her dress.
Mrs Phillips went over to where Eileen was standing and lifted up the front of the dress and felt it.
‘It’s sopping wet and muddy as well.’ Then she noticed Eileen’s petticoat. ‘And it’s gone right through to your petticoat.’ Mrs Phillips started to part the layers of net.’ It’s gone right through three layers.’
Meanwhile Mr Phillips, hearing the commotion, came into the kitchen.
‘What’s going on? He asked.
‘Look at what this stupid girl has done.’ Snapped Mrs Phillips, holding up the dress for her husband to see..
‘It was an accident Dad, honestly.’ Pleaded Eileen
‘Don’t believe a word of it.’ Said Mrs Phillips
‘She could be telling the truth.’ Said Mr Phillips, who like all dads could be wrapped round his daughters little finger.
‘You know her as well as I do, she’s always telling fibs.’ Shouted Mrs Phillips. ‘Get that dress and petticoat off, and your socks, they’re just as bad. Look at the washing you’ve made. Now we’re going to miss the bus and be late for dinner at Auntie Grace’s.’
‘I’m sorry mum.’ Wailed Eileen, crumbling under her mother’s onslaught. She started to take her clothes off.
‘I warned you before you went out, didn’t I?’
‘Yes mum.’ Whimpered Eileen.
‘Well, I’m going to give you a damn good hiding.’ Shouted Mrs Phillips.
‘D’you think that’s necessary?’ interjected Mr Phillips. ‘It might have been an accident.’
‘Accident my foot.’ Snapped Mrs Phillips. ‘It doesn’t matter either way, I warned her before she went out. Now she can take the consequences. If I’d have done this at her age I would have got a good thrashing. What’s good for me is good for her.’
Eileen had now taken off her wet clothes and was standing in bare feet, pale blue knickers and white vest.
Mrs Phillips went to the draw next to the sink and took out a wooden spoon.
‘A good dose of this should teach you a lesson.’ Snapped Mrs Phillips going across to Eileen and grabbing her by the arm.
‘Oh no mum, please. Not that.’ She pleaded as she tried to pull away.
Her mother grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the table.
‘Get over the table.’ She ordered, letting go of Eileen’s arm and pushing her in the back over the table.
‘No, mum, pleaeeeease.’ Wailed Eileen. But it was to no avail. Mum held her down and began a barrage of whacks to poor Eileen’s bottom.
‘Ouch, ow, ow, yeoww. It hurts, no please.’ Yelled Eileen but to no avail.
‘Yeooow, wooow, ooouuuch.’
‘I hope you’re learning your lesson?’ cried mum renewing her efforts with more vigour.
‘Yeeeoooow, ‘
Eileen’s legs were kicking and she wriggled to try and get away from mum’s grip. Tears were now beginning to flow as the sting of that hated spoon began to take their toll.
‘Dad, tell her to stop.’ Wailed Eileen.
Mr Phillips stepped forward.
‘Don’t you think she’s had enough?’ pleaded Mr Phillips.
‘No I don’t.’ snapped Mrs Phillips laying down the spoon and commencing to pull Eileen’s knickers down to her knees.
‘Mum, what are you doing?’ cried Eileen.
‘What does it look like?’ Retorted Mrs Phillips.’ I’m going to make sure you remember this for a long long time.’
Mr Phillips could stand it no longer and retreated to the living room. He knew it was useless to argue with his wife in this frame of mind. She had strong views on discipline and was determined to see them through. She picked up the spoon and started to lay into poor Eileen’s already crimson bottom.
Whack! Whack! Whack! The sound of spoon on bare flesh sounded even louder than on cotton knickers.
‘Aaaaggghh’ yelled poor Eileen as the pain raced through her body. After several more whacks her ordeal was over. Mrs Phillips took her hand from Eileen’s back and stood back, taking a deep breath after her exertions. Eileen jumped up and rubbed her bottom vigorously, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mrs Phillips returned the spoon to its place.
‘Now get yourself upstairs and put fresh clothes on, and don’t be too long or we’ll miss the next bus and then you’ll get another dose.’
Eileen pulled up her knickers and ran from the kitchen up to her bedroom and flung herself on the bed. Downstairs Mr Phillips came into the kitchen.
‘Don’t you think you were a bit hard on her?’ he asked
‘No I don’t. That girl never seems to learn. It’s about time you took some responsibility and disciplined her yourself.’

[Mr-AlanUK]

Very good, thanks for sharing.