Marie and Mrs Stamford

by Nightgerbil

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2024 - Nightgerbil - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; fpov; chastity; roleplay; punish; spank; cane; hum; cons; X

Content warning, Spanking, caning and humiliation. This is more brutal than my other stories to date.

I was bored after work. It hadn’t been a busy day, the tourist season was over and the business was getting quiet. I had been sent home early and looking around my room I wondered what I should do next. My room was a double bedroom in a shared house with three other girls. We were all lodgers of our landlady Mrs Stamford, who had converted her house after her husband had passed away. She’d turned the downstairs into one big flat for herself and the four bedrooms upstairs were each rented out to one of us girls. We had a shared bathroom on the top floor between us, but no kitchen: In my room I had a microwave and a small fridge. That alongside a wardrobe, a dresser and a desk for my laptop was what I called home.

Stretching, I ached to touch myself. It had been weeks since Hanna had locked me in the chastity belt. Since she had been released from hers, she had let me move back home. I kind of needed to or I think Mrs Stamford would have kicked me out. It had the bonus as well that finally I wasn’t being spanked to tears every night before bed! That's partly why I was reluctant to text Hanna; I knew my own mood! When I’m bored like this I get into trouble and I had been trying to be on my best behavior so she would take the stupid belt off and let me finally cum!

I supposed I could always go outside. Maybe go to a bar, look at all the boys I couldn’t take home to have promiscuous sex with... Go get drunk when I have work at eight tomorrow morning. Yeah, no NOT a good Idea. Thinking again about Mrs Stamford, I remembered her fondly with a smile! She had been my old English teacher and one of the few to ever take an interest in me and try to teach me stuff. I had to admit I had been hard work! It had been Mrs Stamford who had given me my first ever spanking I mused. Put over her knee in front of the whole class for pulling Laura Palmer's hair and making her cry. I smiled at the memory, it had started me on my own journey!

I felt the devil in me then and smiled broadly ear to ear. Oh this was risky! Bratting my own Landlady? I was giggling to myself as I sat down at my desk and grabbed a pen and paper. See? This is why I had to steer clear of Hanna tonight! I wondered how Mrs S would react though?

What to write… of its own accord my pen began…

“In defense of Lady Macbeth; in what ways has she been vilified by Shakespeare and by history?”

Awh well its obvious innit? Shakie boys a misogynist! Yeahh balming blaming it all on the woman rite? Like adam and eve and the apple innit? Well Clearly the real problem was Lady Mac was on her period rite? All the washing of her hands of blood ant that? Cause shakie were like that means shes guilty of murder. Like they didn’t have tampons back then rite? How else was she supposed to get clean? Thats why she was going on about it. Poor bitch must have been having a real heavy one eh? crying out to spirits to "make thick [her] blood / Stop up th' access and passage to remorse", Lady Macbeth asks for her period to stop. Yet bunch of historians reckon thats all bout her wanting to be a fella! Saying shes a bad mother cause she wanted some pain killers and a sanitary product! Its an outrage if you ask me.. Shes been slandered I tell ya. Then her hubbie whose been bumping off anyone with a pulse enters stage left to annouse she topped herself! A likely frigging story eh? I bet they had a row. Probably wanted sex or something while she was on the rag. Or maybe she threatened to go to the sheriff ehy? And he did her in! Cause shakies dumped all the blame on her poor cow. Not her fault she married a wrong ‘un is it? They ad arranged marragiges marriages back then! Its a travesty of justice, poor cow. Someone should look into clearing her name!

I had to stop writing then, I was laughing so hard. Oh that's funny, Macbeth was her favorite play. Oh this was gonna be good. Settling down, I pondered what to do next and then it hit me. “Gotta get in costume for a show Marie!” I told myself.

I was quickly out of my work uniform and into my wardrobe. Where was it? Ah! There! I’d kept my old school uniform for parties and school reunions. White blouse, Blue skirt, blue and yellow tie. I had fun making the tie knot ridiculously huge and hitching my school skirt up to an indecent length. Looking in the mirror though, I saw my sock bun from work wasn’t going to cut it for this look. Sighing to myself, I winced as I slowly combed out the hair glue keeping my bun immobile. Eventually I got it all loose and brushed out. I was still banned from braiding my hair by Hanna; which honestly I think is totally unfair and uncalled for! You’d think she’d have let go of that rule by now! Grousing about it wasn’t going to help though, I thought as I bit my lip. Oh well, no help for it: pigtails it is! My hair was soon in two tight pigtails, set just above each ear. Smoothing them down I admired how they flowed down to my upper thighs. My hair was getting long now! I hadn’t really been paying attention with it always being up in a bun, but admiring myself in the mirror I liked what I saw. “Well, time to go get in trouble!” I giggled to myself.

Heading downstairs, I first peeked out of my bedroom door. I didn’t want any of the other girls to see me, but luckily the coast was clear! Scurrying down the stairs holding the paper in my hand, I knocked firmly on Mrs Stamfords door. “Here we go!” I thought to myself. This was probably a terrible idea, but right now I didn’t care. I was struggling not to burst with laughter.

The door opened and in it stood Mrs Stamford. Shorter than me, she was dressed in a woolen jumper and woolen skirt to her ankles. Her gray/white hair was pulled back in the french twist she had always worn. I remembered when that french twist had been blonde. She blinked at me behind her glasses and asked “Marie? What is it?”

“OI OI MISS! Sorry my homeworks late! I know it was supposed to be in last week, but the dog ate it!” I thrust the paper at her with the biggest grin I could manage. She seemed startled as she looked me up and down, taking in what I was wearing. She reluctantly took hold of the paper and without looking at it said to me “Well you had better come inside Marie.”

I strutted into the room past her and looked around curiously. Straight into a big living area with a couch on one wall facing a big TV. To the left was a big desk underneath the window and lots of filing cabinets and bookcases. I assumed this was her office. On my right past the couch I saw more bookcases and doors leading to other parts of her living space. Spinning back on my toes I faced Mrs Stamford with a smirk as she closed the door behind me. She gave me another long look, before looking down and reading my “homework” I really had to suppress a giggle as I watched her lips tighten to a thin line and her eyes narrowed.

Looking back up at me she glared and said in a voice so cold it could have frozen boiling water “This is unacceptable Marie. You can’t hand in your homework a week late. There will be consequences for this tardiness!”

The ice in her tone made me shiver and should have made me dry up right there. Instead I was even more excited and felt my clitoris harden up as her left hand seized my right pigtail. She forcefully pulled down on it and my eyes widened as I was dragged across the room half bent over to the couch! The pain was quickly forgotten though as she sat down with a thud and I was dragged across her knee!

“You always were trouble Marie!” Her snarl seemed to have real anger in it, as she pulled my skirt up to my waist and rolled it into the waistband. “It seems I am always having to repeat the same lessons with you!” she continued on, pulling my panties down below my knees. She stopped then though, as I tensed up waiting for what was obviously shaping up to be a firm spanking!

“What’s this?” she murmured, her voice tone changing to one of curiosity. I felt her hand moving between my legs, exploring the crotch band of the chastity belt. Moving down my inner thigh, her hand rubbed the dampness there and I realized with shock I was currently leaking out of the belt! I was dripping wet and I blushed to myself about how excited I’d made myself just coming down here like this. Mrs Stamford was going to think I.. I don’t know what she would think! A shiver of fear ran through me again as I waited for her reaction.

“Who put this on you Marie?” she asked gently.

I lowered my head and stuttered “Hanna did Miss, erm Hanna Dempsey? Erm maybe two months ago? I’d been… err… Naughty I guess? I’m not allowed to touch myself until she says otherwise…” I was embarrassed explaining it, but a little shiver ran through my loins as I spoke. Simply explaining my predicament like this, vulnerable and bent bare bottomed over her knee, added to the rising emotions rolling through me.

I gasped as her hand came down suddenly on my butt. “Ah yes I remember little Hanna. You two were always thick as thieves.” Her hand came down again as she continued, “I am not surprised you two are together, you were always so close. Tell me, has she collared you?” Her hand came down repeatedly on my butt as she questioned me. Shaking my head no, I felt my pigtails shake as I explained that no, I was uncollared. Mrs Stamford started humming to herself as my spanking continued. I tried to hold back my tears, but then she said “well we shall have to fix that won’t we Marie? Naughty girls shouldn’t be running around without a collar.”

I was stunned that she said that! Collaring me? The loud moan escaping my lips was involuntary as I felt my pussy spasm and my aching clit twitch beneath the belt. Thinking “Oh god I nearly came!” I wondered for the millionth time what was wrong with me. Did I really want to be collared of all things?

“Hush now!” She ordered me sharply as the intensity of her spanking increased. The strikes were harder now and more frequent. I finally couldn’t hold back my tears and started sobbing as she paddled my butt red. It was the firmest spanking I’d had in months, rivaling Hanna’s punishment spankings of doom! Maybe bratting Mrs S hadn’t been such a brilliant idea after all?

Finally she stopped hitting me and pushed me up to my feet. Standing beside me she ordered “Hands on the top of your head! Interlace those fingers… good girl. Now come over to the desk while I mark your homework.” I watched her walk over to the desk and sit in the chair behind it back to the window. Trying to follow her, I found my knickers had fallen down around my ankles. She was staring hard at me as I looked down at them. “Leave them there” she ordered coldly.

I was still crying as I slowly made my way to her desk, Hands on head and my underwear effectively hobbling me. It was both humiliating and arousing and my pussy was as warm as my bottom by the time I reached her desk. She had taken out a red pen in the meantime and was actually marking what I had written!

Standing before her at the desk I watched her ringing spelling mistakes and making notes. Finally she wrote (F) REPEAT! (-25). Showing this to me, she took out 10 pages of A4 paper and rolled it up with my “homework” on top. Moving around the desk, she unfastened two buttons in the middle of my blouse and pushed the tube of paper into my bra by my left breast.

“You have until this time tomorrow to deliver the assignment Marie. I expect at least 5000 words and woe be tide you if you are late! First though we must correct those 25 errors you made. Bend over the desk.” I felt her hand between my shoulderblades pushing me down, so I lay over the desk, with my hobbled feet close together.

Mrs Stamford moved back around the desk to the corner and took from a bookshelf a cane! I froze solid, even my tears pausing as I gazed wide eyed at her. I felt myself tremble as she took a practice swing. The sound the cane made as it cut through the air chilled me to the bone.

“Now Marie, you are going to count every stroke and say thank you with it. If you do not it will not count to the total. Do you understand?” Looking up at her I nodded fearfully. A caning on top of a spanking? What had I gotten myself into?

Her hand caressed my sore bottom, gently squeezing it before she stepped away. I took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare for what was coming next. The strike of the cane was like fire across my arse and it felt like my eyes would bulge out of their sockets as I gasped through my tears. It was with some effort I managed to stammer “One! Thank you Miss.”

The next four strokes all came down on exactly the same spot, each more painful than the last and I could hear my own misery in my voice as I called out “Five, thank you Miss.” This had definitely stopped being fun! Was I going to be able to sit down at all tomorrow? Fortunately, the sixth stroke was lower down my bottom. Mrs Stamford landed my 25 strokes in five sets of five, each set lower down my bum. It was hurting like hell and was certainly more painful then anything I had experienced before. I was openly weeping, feeling my makeup run down my face as I was finally able to gasp “twenty five! THANK YOU MISS!”

Laying down the cane on the desk, Mrs Stamford took a firm hold of my pigtails and dragged me to my feet. Leading me stumbling across the room she pushed my nose to the wall. “Now stay there, don’t move and think about how to do better!” She scolded me. I heard her turn away and turn on the TV as she sat down on her couch.

I was crying hard, as I faced the wall. My arms were aching, but I didn’t dare take them down from the top of my head. Resisting the urge to rub my sore bottom, I shuffled slightly trying to ease the agony in my rear. That only made me more aware of my panties, now knotted around my ankles, keeping them tied together and the leaking pussy juice that was making its way into my socks. The fire in my bottom it seemed had driven me closer to my edge than ever before and I couldn’t say for sure if my tears were from the caning or from how desperately I needed to cum.

Eventually with a shuddering sigh I managed to bring my tears under control. My butt hurt like hell! I wondered what time it was, 5000 words was going to take me at least four hours to write. More likely five to six I figured, given I REALLY didn’t want another caning for screwing it up! “Definitely need an A for this one” I told myself. I was getting antsy and almost involuntarily I turned my head to try to look at the clock.

The TV was turned off immediately and Mrs Stamford seemed to materialize by my right ear. “How dare you disobey my order to stay still?” she whispered angrily in my ear as her hand wrapped itself around my pigtail above my ear and with great force pulled my nose back to the wall. I couldn’t help squealing from the pain of it.

She strode over to the desk, returning with the cane. “That will be five more Marie for disobedience! Same as before you WILL count them off. You will also stand there until I go to bed now!” Her bedtime? How long would that be?! I had to get up for work early tomorrow, there would be no time to do my essay in the morning. “I’ll be up all night” I thought to myself, “I’ll have to push it through her door tomorrow morning before I set off for work…” Then the final import of what she had just said washed over me… “Oh shit! Five more? I can’t take five more…”

Crack! My wail echoed across the room as my tears began again. She’d brought that cursed cane down on a diagonal from the top of my left cheek to the bottom of my right cheek and it had crossed all five previous sets of canings! I felt my whole arse light up with the renewed agony of it and I barely managed to mumble “One thank you Miss.”

I felt her hand on my waist pulling me slightly from the wall, making my butt stick out more. She grunted with satisfaction and brought the cane down again. It was with gritted teeth I managed “Two, thank you Miss. Three, Thank you Miss, Four thank you Miss…” Finally the fifth stroke came down, leaving me trembling and whimpering, nose pressed firmly against the wall. I closed my eyes with the pain as I listened to her sit down again and turn on the TV.

That last set had been brutal for me, all on the same point. I wondered what the bruises were going to look like tomorrow. I tried to focus on the sound of the TV, but between the fire in my pussy and the throbbing agony in my arse I could only gently sob. My awareness of time stretched out and I lost myself in the sweet misery of my suffering.

I was surprised when the television was finally turned off and Mrs Stamford yawningly pulled me from my reverie. “It's bedtime for me dear.” she told me. Gripping me firmly by the back of the neck she started leading me to the door. “You will keep your hands on your head, until you reach the door to your room!” she warned me as I waddled out of her flat. She stood at the doorway watching me as I slowly made my way up the stairs.

With my knickers still wrapped around my ankles, I couldn’t walk up the stairs naturally and I made slow progress. I had to bring my right foot up one step, then bring the left foot up to join it. It was hard with my hands on my head and my aching butt cramping up. The muscles in it were objecting to the exercise! I was bent over and my pigtails were swinging between my knees. I had to be careful not to trip on them. Through every tortuous step, I was aware that my belted pussy and glowing red butt were on display to Mrs Stamford at the bottom of those long stairs. The humiliation and shame of it made my cheeks burn nearly as fiercely as my arse!

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, I scurried over to my door praying none of my housemates would pick that moment to use the bathroom! I had no idea how I would explain any of this! Looking over my shoulder back down the stairs, I saw Mrs Stamford was gone. The door to her room was closed and I wondered to myself how long she had actually watched me? At what point had she been satisfied I was obeying? Could I in fact have pulled up my knickers earlier? Well no point thinking about it now I told myself.

Pulling open my door and entering my room I was finally able to touch my butt. It was aching and too sore to even think about sitting on. I needed to get some ice on it, I thought. Catching a glance at myself in the mirror I was shocked by my appearance! I’d neglected to take off my heavy makeup from work and the hours of crying had made it run everywhere. I looked terrible, with puffy red eyes and black streaks down my face. Forget the ice, I needed a shower!

Then I saw the time. Nearly ten pm! Had I really been downstairs for over six hours? No wonder my butt was so stiff and my arms were aching so much! Glancing at the rolled paper between my breasts I realized I didn’t have time for ice or a shower. I didn’t have time for anything! I needed to get writing if I wanted any chance of sleeping tonight!

Waddling over to my desk, I didn’t even waste time removing the panties from around my ankles as I stood over it. Pulling out the paper I started to write…

“In defense of Lady Macbeth; in what ways has she been vilified by Shakespeare and by history?”


Continues in

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum