I sat ner­vous­ly lis­ten­ing to Miss Sven­sonís sum­ma­ry of my first week as her lodger. It was Fri­day after­noon and some rules had been broken.
You have repeat­ed­ly left your dirty cof­fee cups in the lounge, she said qui­et­ly, This is in breach of the house rules as you are aware. Is it so hard to take a cup into the kitchen and place it in the sink? After all Iím not expect­ing you to wash it. Now stand up, take down your trousers and get over my kneeî, she ordered.
I had only been a res­i­dent in Elsa Sven­son’s house for a lit­tle shy of a week. The rent was rea­son­able, but I did have to agree to a set of house rules that were pre­sent­ed to me. Any breach of these rules would result in cor­po­ral pun­ish­ment being admin­is­tered. I had a choice to accept her terms or look else­where. I decid­ed that although some of the rules could be con­sid­ered dra­con­ian, I could avoid chas­tise­ment with­out too much effort. After all where else would I find a room in North Lon­don for £55 a week.
The terms were clear. All offences would be not­ed and cor­rec­tion applied on a Fri­day afternoon.
As I stood and unfas­tened my jeans, I won­dered why she had not men­tioned the cof­fee cups dur­ing the week. Instead she just cleared them away with a smile. I must remem­ber to go through the list of rules after my spank­ing. Miss Sven­son† drew back her skirt, reveal­ing her stock­ing tops.  At least the view was good, I thought to myself.
SMACK, the first blow was firm but quite bear­able and I sud­den­ly felt reas­sured that this pun­ish­ment would be tol­er­a­ble, espe­cial­ly since I had the pro­tec­tion of my under­pants. The spank­ing con­tin­ued for a while.  Miss Sven­son spanked slow­ly but rhyth­mi­cal­ly and after a few min­utes placed her fin­gers in the waist­band of my under­pants. Oh Oh. She con­tin­ued to spank my now bared bot­tom in that slow man­ner and I began to feel the effects. Dur­ing the dis­ci­pline Elsa explained how she did­nít enjoy pun­ish­ing me but it was her duty to enforce the rules and it had to be done. ìyes Maíamî was all I could mut­ter.  When she pulled my undies back up, I realised that the spank­ing was over. I could live with that, I thought, ìit was not any­where as bad as I had ini­tial­ly imagined.
Stand up and pull up your trouser­sî, she said. Great — trousers up, pun­ish­ment over. I sat back down on the sofa.
Miss Sven­son smiled, ìthe next breach was talk­ing dur­ing Eas­t­en­ders, I’ll be back in a minute
What kind of rule was that, I thought, talk­ing dur­ing Eas­t­en­ders, I remem­ber her telling me to shh­hh at the time, but who watch­es that garbage any­way  Miss Sven­son apparently.
She walked back in the room flex­ing a cane in her hands. Things were look­ing dire, she must real­ly be a fan. I am now going to give you six strokes of the cane, please stand up, drop your trousers, bend over and grab your ankles.
I obeyed, won­der­ing why on earth I agreed to this in the 1st place and remind­ing myself for a sec­ond time to read through the rules. THWWACK, the pain was unbear­able, that Elsa must be a ten­nis play­er or some­thing. Ten sec­onds must have passed before the sec­ond stroke land­ed, she does like to take her time. I man­aged to endure the can­ing and hoped that that would be the end. But alas, it was­n’t. I had to go over Miss Sven­son’s knee a sec­ond time for a spank­ing on my welt­ed bot­tom with a slip­per, fol­lowed by a strap­ping on my poor bare bot­tom. But in true mean fash­ion she saved the worst for last. Twelve strokes of that dread­ful cane ñ the first six across my under­pants, then she low­ered them and applied anoth­er six on the bare. Every time I had hoped it was over after being told to pull up my trousers. But it con­tin­ued. The only respite came between each ìsen­tenceî being car­ried out which I was thank­ful for. Miss Sven­son nev­er raised her voice and was extreme­ly calm dur­ing the entire episode and claimed that she real­ly did­nít want to give me a thrash­ing but I did deserve it so she had to fol­low it through. Although she did seem very good at it and I do get the feel­ing she enjoyed blis­ter­ing my behind. Any­way, tomor­row ís Fri­day, so letís hope I have improved.
The End.

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