« Spanking Stories

« Charlotte, Amelia, Imogen and Takisha

 

19. All the Way

Spanking Story

 
 

An aspiring singer is caned for her selfish performance

 
   
«Beginning Part 20»

Kat could have stayed at home, as could have Tina. Both lived nearby. But the allure of sharing the second house near the lake and being immersed in Girl Act was too much. Helen and Rose had no choice, both living in cities far away.

In nothing but a long tee and panties, Kat poured herself a bowl of cinnamon flakes and stood looking out over the calm waters while she ate her breakfast. Mrs. Williams made lunch and dinner for them, but breakfast was up to them to organize. They could update the shopping app with anything they liked, and the food came once a week. With only breakfast and snacks to consider, it was easy to stay focused on their work.

Rose came down the stairs with care. Her short pink tee didn't even make it to her hips. As she turned into the kitchen, Kat saw six red lines protruding from her white cotton panties. They were unembarrassed about their punishments. It was rare for all of them to be unmarked. Rose had copped it hard yesterday for talking back to her acting coach. Takisha had caned her in front of the coach.

"Are you still sore?" Kat asked.

"Yes. And we've got small-talk training this morning. I never do well at that."

Kat nodded. "I hope you do well today."

"Thanks," Rose said, grabbing her two slices from the toaster and spreading butter all over them. Using a plate to avoid crumbs, she came to stand beside Kat.

"I've got used to being sore," she said.

"Not too used to it, I hope. It needs to still affect you. There's no point if it doesn't weigh heavy on your mind and make you ashamed you've needed to be punished."

"No fear of that. Yesterday, Takisha made me touch my toes in front of my acting coach."

"Wow. I knew you'd got it in front of her, but touching your toes must have been hard."

"I was ashamed beyond words. It was a salutary lesson. Although I may be used to the soreness, when I feel the pain again, like coming down the stairs just now, it reinforces the depth of shame I felt during my punishment."

"You won't sass her again, will you?"

"Not a chance. Indeed, my manners feel so sharp this morning, I might even get through small-talk unscathed."

"That would be a first," Kat grinned. "I'm sharp in my manners and precise with people in a way I never used to be before I came here. I even want to get caned, when I know I've gone out of order. Isn't that weird?"

"Not so much," Rose said, looking up at the beautiful girl. "Yesterday, I wanted Takisha to come down on me like a ton of bricks. As soon as my words were out of my mouth, I wished I hadn't said them."

"Good girl," Kat said. "I feel the same. I guess this is how all the founders feel."

"Does it make you horny?" Rose asked.

"A bit," Kat said.

It was the first lie out of her mouth in ages, but she couldn't bear to admit how hot she was after a punishment. The fear as she bent began a powerful process. The pain rammed home her disobedience, and her hand turned the pain into pleasure, rebuilding her self-respect with pride. Her favorite moment was just after she'd taken her punishment, and she must thank whoever had made her so sore. To face the person who had just thrashed you and give formal thanks for such immaculate pain drove deep obedience into her. She loved being made to comply. It was the moment she fixated on when her hand got into her panties to relieve the pressure, often hours later. Playing with herself afterwards was always a sensational release. She relaxed, sore and sorry, flooded with respect for whoever had chastised her.

"It makes me hot as hell," Rose said. "I'm not sure I know why, but without a guy in my life right now, it's an amazing release to replay the nightmare afterwards."

The raised intonation in Rose's last words made it an obvious question. Kat waited, wondering how to answer. Her hesitance gave her away.

"Come on, Kat," Rose said. "You feel it too, don't you?"

"Yes," Kat said.

"Do you play with yourself hard?"

"Yes," Kat said. The admissions got easier. It was silly. She'd had her bottom bared and caned in front of Rose when her manners at dinner one night had not met Imogen's standards.

They'd all endured the shame of stripping to at least their panties and presenting their bottom for sound punishment in front of each other. There wasn't much to hide. The route they'd chosen to stardom involved harsh lessons and close living. It seemed pointless to lie.

"At that moment when you know you're dead wrong, do you want the thrashing?" Rose asked.

"Always," Kat said. "Almost as soon as I've failed, guilt consumes me and being ordered to bend calms me even before it hurts. But later when I replay it, I focus on thanking whoever has just given me my sound thrashing. Thats when I feel small and obedient."

Rose smiled. "Me too. There's no escaping from the fact you've had to obey whoever has punished you. I love being made to offer my humble thanks, and I always mean it."

"Me too," Kat said, surprised to find how similar their thoughts were.

"Come on," Rose said. "We've got to be at small-talk in thirty minutes and I haven't been in the shower."


Kat took to the stage in the performance room. Small-talk training had gone off well for all of them this morning. She'd been proud of Rose. Charlotte had engaged her hard and Rose had risen to the challenge, her sore bottom no doubt assisting. The pale-skinned girl had channeled her curiosity, asked logical questions following on from Charlottes opening, and deepened their conversation. Observed by everyone, Charlotte and Rose had flowed into hiking in the Swiss hills and transitioned into European culture. It had been a flawless example of sophistication and grace. Charlotte had even stood and clapped at the end, thrilled by Rose's performance.

A whole different performance faced Kat now. She adjusted the stage mic to her height and went over to the audiovisual control panel at the back of the room. They'd all had basic training on how to operate the professional level equipment. While sound checking to perfection was beyond them, getting the cameras recording or activating the presets for the sound levels was well within their grasp.

Returning to the stage, she looked up into the cameras at the back of the large room. Tiny red lights under each camera showed it was recording. Pressing the remote on the side of the stage, a tilted screen at her feet began counting down from thirty seconds. Their orchestra and pianist had recorded the backing tracks to Charlotte's demanding satisfaction. It meant she could concentrate on only her vocals; the rest being predictable and perfect.

As the countdown at her feet hit double zero, the orchestra filled the room. She let her heart lift with the opening notes and sang, "Non, rien de rien," rolling her R's off her tongue.

Charlotte had set her the world famous French song 'Non, Je ne regrette rien' because it was a serious challenge of emotion and language. A French teacher had helped her understand the words in English, then French, and had driven her to nail perfect pronunciation.

In a powerful voice, she now regretted nothing, nothing at all, with all her heart. The end of one relationship left no regrets and opened the way for a new one. Offering no regrets to the back of the room, her passion pouring into the ever present cameras, she swore with all her heart that today her future began with her imaginary, but very definite, new lover. She swept her arm out into the room with a loud "Thank you," as she crackled with glory.

In her mind, the audience was still clapping and chanting for more.

In fact, standing in the open doorway was Charlotte, a lot less happy than the imaginary audience. "It saddens me to see such a stunning performance go to waste."

Kat bowed her head in shame. She knew what she'd done. She'd got caught up in her own song. The power of the music had transported her as it had her audience. But when you controlled a performance, you had to remain in control right through the end and off the stage.

"If that had been a poor performance, I'd have wanted to talk over the details," Charlotte said, "but it was amazing. Is it on camera?"

"Yes," Kat said.

"Good. Pity about the end. You know what you did, don't you?"

"Yes," Kat said. It wasn't the first time she'd got caught up in the flow of her music. It was a peril of being a performer, one she must resist.

"Stealing the end of the song for your own glory is shameless exhibitionism. You gave it to the audience, don't take it away. Leave them with the gift they'll remember forever."

"Sorry," Kat said.

"Go up to the office and wait for me," Charlotte commanded.

"Yes, miss," Kat said

They used first names, but when ordered to obey a strict command for certain punishment, it was beyond her to address Charlotte by her name. She'd heard the others doing the same. It was natural, and nobody had ever questioned it.


Kat knocked on the open office door and went in. Takisha was sitting towards the far end of the long white table, a laptop and papers spread in front of her.

"Hello Kat."

"Hi, I'm here to wait for Charlotte."

"Oh dear, have a seat." she pointed to the near end of the table and Kat took a white mesh swivel chair. They were a comfortable design. Long meetings in this room were rare, but it was a pleasant place to be, even when you knew you were here for punishment.

"What did you do?" Takisha asked.

"Blew the end of my performance with a burst of ego."

"Did you record it?"

"Yep."

"Let's see," Takisha said, keying codes on her laptop to access the server and replay the latest recording from the performance room.

As the video played, it filled Kat's heart. Even in her jeans and tee, she looked like a professional. The performance reached its over exuberant end just as Charlotte arrived and closed the door.

"A pity," Takisha said. "You sound French. Beautiful resonance on your R's. It's what makes that song."

Kat stood and went to the end of the long table, while Charlotte brought a cane from the narrow closet at the other end of the room.

"It's not enough, Kat. Just not enough. I've told you about this before. You must stay in control of your performance all the way off the stage and until you're in private. Assume, there's always a camera watching you."

"I'm sorry, miss. I need help to get over this silliness."

Charlotte looked at the girl she adored. It was an honest response and a request. Placing the cane on the end of the table, it rattled on the wooden surface while she returned to the narrow closet and withdrew a thick senior cane. It was standard fare for herself and her co-founders, but reserved for serious offenses with their students. She hadn't planned on using it, but Kat's honesty had spurred her mind.

Returning to the end of the table, she placed the thick cane beside the thinner one. "Given, you've been told before about this, which do you think would teach you the most effective lesson this afternoon?"

Kat didn't hesitate. Drenched in bitter shame by the replay of her performance and Takisha's compliment, she tapped the thick cane.

"Good girl. This will be unpleasant for you, as unpleasant as your selfish finale was to your audience."

Charlotte put the regular cane back in the cane closet and picked up the senior one. "Face the table and drop your jeans," she said.

Kat fiddled with the button on her tight black skinny jeans and pushed them down to her ankles. Being ordered down to her panties in front of Takisha, in her sharp black skirt suit, amplified her shame. Her navy cotton bikinis adorned with tiny white dots felt immature in front of the two powerful women.

Charlotte tapped the end of the long white table with the cane. "Bend over."

Kat bent forward and lowered herself over the narrow table, gripping the sides. The sun cast a bright light over her sad situation. She looked up from her shame into Takisha's gaze. The beautiful honey colored face above a smart white blouse was a reminder of how undressed she was.

After three light taps on her taut cotton, the rush of air tensed her bottom as the heavy rattan thrashed into her thin panties. Fire ripped a deep line across her cheeks as excruciating agony soared in her skin. She tightened her fists, her knuckles turning white as the pain deepened and rocketed. Her arrogant 'Thank you' hung in her mind as the cane struck her bare skin below her panties. The cruel stroke stunned her and she let out a yell straight down the table at Takisha. The gorgeous girl returned a stern gaze, unimpressed. Kat remembered Takisha's beautiful bottom marked by this same heavy cane on the night they'd first met and stiffened her courage.

She'd signed up to this, and she'd chosen the heavy cane. Charlotte had caned her many times, at least twice before, for the same sort of mistake. Her behind was still tender from four swift strokes a few days ago for using the wrong knife at dinner. That time, Imogen had delivered her punishment in front of her fellow students on her bare bottom, her string an embarrassment in the circumstances.

Receiving a painful beating in front of others was swift retribution and effective embarrassment. The rattan struck her sensitive skin. She panted hard, keeping her pain inside and meeting Takisha's stern gaze head on. A slight smile from the smart girl gave her even more courage. The fourth and final stroke lashed into her panties, across the center of her cotton, burning fierce fiery shame into her disobedient cheeks. As the pain escalated into furious agony, she held still and accepted her stiff punishment for inserting herself into her performance.

"Get up," Charlotte said.

Kat turned and stood in her panties in front of Charlotte. "I'm sorry, miss. I know I deserved it, but hell that hurt."

"Will you keep your performances tight, right to the end?"

"Hell, yes," Kat said. "I'm going to hurt for at least a week. I won't forget this."

"You took it well. Pull up your jeans."

Still paused on her screen, Kat's performance of the world famous song had blown Takisha's mind. Many had tried it, but only one had ever come close to the original, and it was another French girl. She wanted the world to feel a dose of Kat. If they got it up on YouTube, and Saffron gave it a mention, it might well go ballistic.

"I want you to record that," Takisha said, "in a demure, but sexy dress, live with the orchestra and put it on YouTube. I could get it right up and over a million views in a week."

Rubbing her burning backside through her tight jeans, Kat said, "It's that good?"

"Yes, Kat. It is."