The de Belvoir ancestry stretched back several generations, and in that time they had built up one of the world’s finest clock and watch making businesses. Mrs Genevieve de Belvoir-Collins was a large presence in the industry and had taken over the de Belvoir business when she 32. In her late twenties she married Harold Collins who at the time was the very promising general manager of her father’s business and they had the full intention of taking over the business together. She was totally in love with Harold and at work they made a good team. Sadly, two years after they were married Harold died suddenly and left her broken-hearted. Her father died soon after and with her mother already long deceased she was left in sole charge of the business. Despite these setbacks she promised herself she would continue the success of the business for her father and Harold.

Genevieve was a firm believer in discipline and took the view that the spankings she received throughout her childhood at home and at school were character building and played their part in making her the woman she was today. She was able to hold her own in the horology business by being determined, disciplined and well organised. No-one thought she was a pushover.

By her early 40s she had been elected to the prestigious post of Master of the Company of Horologists, the first female to hold the position. Thirty years later she still attended the meetings and banquets and continued to raise money for charities to support up and coming horologists and those in need. She was now the most senior past master and as such she had a grace-and-favour flat on the top floor of the Horologists Hall, with her own full-time Senior Steward, Jason.

The Company had formal dining at the Hall once a month and Genevieve would sit at the top table and survey the 100 or so guests as they ate and drank. She gave off the air of a rather dowdy, stern spinster and she often glared at the younger girls and ladies who she thought were flippant, sometimes rude, and acted in what she considered a less than elegant and ladylike manner. Some ladies did not do themselves credit and lacked discipline and motivation to fulfil their own potential. For a decade or two she had privately corrected some of these females, especially if the new Master elect had a daughter or wife who she felt did not do themselves or their husband credit. She gave them a reminder of how to behave on public occasions. Discipline was the key and she had taken a few up to her flat for just that.

During one particular dinner, Claire, the daughter of the master Elect, Fabian Crookshank, caught her eye for the wrong reasons. When Genevieve enquired about the girl she discovered that she was quite difficult at home and during the evening it was becoming very noticeable that she was drinking a little too much and was flirting with some of the older married men in a way which seemed to make the gentlemen's partners uncomfortable. Claire was indeed a pretty girl, aged 19, and was that evening wearing a brown dress with small white polka dots. Her full breasts were clearly on show with too much cleavage showing and her dress was about mid-thigh. She wore black tights with black polka dots on them and her hair was in a neat ponytail. Her big brown eyes gleamed and her smile was alluring. No wonder the fickle older men were totally overcome and charmed.

This young lady needs a lesson, she thought. Yes, she really did need to be taught a lesson if her father was to have a successful year as Master without people gossiping about Claire. So Genevieve put into effect the plan which had served her well many times before. It had led to quite a number of ladies, some of whom were dining that evening, taking their leave of the formal dinner to receive a reminder of how to behave, in the form of a bare bottom spanking.

“Jason, it’s time I had a private word with Miss Claire, don’t you think?” she said to her steward.

“Yes, ma’am, I can arrange it, if you like,” Jason responded with a glint in his eye. He enjoyed listening to the ladies taking their spankings.

“Thank you. I will leave it in your hands.”

Jason disappeared for a while and Genevieve continued her conversation with the honoured guests from Switzerland. About 20 minutes later, Jason returned.

“We are all set,” he whispered and smiled.

“Excellent.” Genevieve stood and made polite excuses to leave the table for a short while.

Dessert was only just being served and there was also coffee and cheese and biscuits to go, so she had at least 15-20 minutes before any speeches were scheduled. Enough time to have a word with young Claire.

As she made her way to the lift which took her to her flat, Jason made his way round the dining room and invited Claire to join Mrs de Belvoir-Collins.

On arriving in the flat, Jason showed Claire to the study where Mrs de Belvoir-Collins was sitting in a leather armchair.

“Please sit down, Claire.”

Claire sat in an armchair opposite and smiled slightly nervously.

“I have a delicate issue to talk to you about.”

“Oh, what is that, Miss?” Claire looked confused.

“Well, I will get straight to the point. Jason tells me that you have taken one of our silver teaspoons and put it in your handbag during dinner. They are very expensive and I have told him I don’t believe it. So, if you would, please open your bag we can put this matter to rest, here in private.”

Claire opened her bag and there inside was a silver spoon. She looked shocked and embarrassed.

“No, no. I didn't put it there,” she protested and looked at Jason.

Jason looked vilified and Genevieve smiled internally but put on an outward show of outrage and disbelief.

“Oh my, my, young lady. I didn’t believe Jason but, well, the proof is right there isn’t it?” Genevieve pointed at the handbag.

“But… but... no...” Claire shook her head, her protest getting quieter and quieter as she couldn’t think how the spoon got there.

“With your father becoming the Master of the Company next month this is a terrible situation. He will be heartbroken that all his hard work has been in vein as there is no way he can take up his post with this sort of scandal.”

“I really didn’t take it,” Claire continued.

“I see. Perhaps you would leave us, Jason. We may be able to find a solution between ourselves.” Genevieve waved Jason away.

Jason left the room, closed the door and stood by the lift door. He smiled to himself. The trap had been set and Miss Claire was about to get a sore bottom and at the same time she would learn what was expected of a lady, he thought to himself.

“Anything Miss, honestly, I will do anything. I don’t want to let daddy down,” Claire continued.

“So Claire, to be honest, the silver spoon isn’t really a big deal and we will put it back later. No one will notice whether you took it or not. You are here, to learn a more important lesson.”

Claire’s heart started to pound.

“In my opinion, you need to dress a little more demurely on these occasions, less of your breasts on show so as not to distract the older members. You need to contain your drinking and stop openly flirting as that puts the partners of members in an embarrassing situation,” Genevieve said in a blunt way.

Claire looked at the floor as she knew she had overstepped the mark.

“I understand, Miss,” she mumbled.

“Good,” Genevieve replied. “I guess your father hasn’t ever disciplined you at home because I hear you can be rude and unruly there as well.”

Claire looked up, her eyes wide open as she realised that this wise woman knew just how it was. She nodded in embarrassment.

“I thought so. Things would be different if, like me, you had been given some discipline at home. You are a good girl but you should have more self-esteem and more confidence so that you can do better for yourself.”

Claire nodded, and inside she knew she had behaved badly at home and had her dad wrapped round her little finger.

“I intend to put that right, right here and now. Please bring that farmhouse stool over here and place it in the middle of the room.” Genevieve pointed to an elm wood light brown stool which was in the corner.

Claire instantly realised what was happening and was panicking. “Oh no, please Miss. I’ve never been spanked before. Please.”

“We don’t have much time before the speeches so we need to get on with this. Either you bend over and grasp the two low bars on each side of the stool and take your spanking or we will go back downstairs and Jason will reveal how you stole that spoon.”

Claire realised there was no alternative so reluctantly she bent over and grasped the low bars of the Victorian farmhouse stool. She was quite a tall elegant girl so her head was over the seat of the stool, she looking down at the floor as her pony tail dangled and her breasts rested on the seat of the stool.

She felt her dress being lifted up over her back and realised she was very vulnerable with her bottom sticking out. Her tights were pulled down to her knees in a very matter-of-fact way. Claire was now exposed and was regretting her choice of a bright pink thong which was on show.

“That isn’t providing much protection is it, Claire?” Genevieve chuckled as she walked round her desk and fetched from the lowest drawer the three inch wide, thick strap that her father had used on her bottom when she had been in much the same position as Claire was now.

“Six strokes across you bared bottom, Claire,” Genevieve said as she dangled the wicked implement in front of the girl. As she took up her position to the left, she looked at the pale white globes which were in a perfect position for punishment.

There was a moan and then a yelp as the arm went up high and came down swiftly, WHACK, the strap slicing across Claire’s bared buttocks right in the centre of her bottom, leaving a bright pink patch. Clare wriggled and her knees bent as she gasped at the stinging sensation spreading out. She held onto the bars.

Over the years Genevieve had perfected her technique and she knew from experience that a wait of three seconds after each stroke felt like an eternity, but it allowed the stroke to settle before the next one sliced across the buttocks. WHACK. This one was slightly lower than the first, and again Claire screeched, wriggled and gasped as her bottom was lit up and her knees bent to try to dissipate the pain.

The strokes continued to sear into the poor girl's bottom as she wriggled, bent her legs at the knees and lifted her feet, She did however remain bent over the stool, grasping the bars more tightly and sucking in air. WHACK. WHACK, her bottom was turning a deep red and the yelps increased in volume as tears flowed.

Genevieve looked at her handiwork and was impressed with how Claire took the final two strokes which she had deliberately placed low down on her bottom so that her thighs were just clipped. These last strokes were accompanied by suitable grunts and wriggles from the chastised girl who was now very sore. Indeed the whole of her bottom and top of her thighs had been scorched by the strap.

After giving Claire a few minutes to compose herself, Genevieve spoke. “You may stand now my dear. We need to return to the banquet.”

“Yes, Miss,” Claire replied as she stood up, feeling a little wobbly. Gingerly, she pulled her tights up over her swollen bottom and ensured her dress hung properly so no sign of her punishment was visible. Her backside felt hot and the tights seemed to be keeping the heat in. It was a new and strange sensation, but she felt it was something she had deserved.

“You took that well, Claire. I hope that you have learnt something about how to behave in a formal setting and that you may even be modifying your behaviour at home. I know you are not a bad girl and I think you will be a credit to your father.”

“Yes, Miss. I understand. Thank you.”

Jason appeared and all three went back down to the hall in the lift. Genevieve immediately returned to the banquet and took up her position as the consummate host. Claire went to the bathroom to compose herself a little more, making sure her make-up eradicated the traces of the tears she had shed. She was determined not to give any sign of what had occurred as explanations would be difficult. There was no-one else in the bathroom so she raised her dress, slowly pulled her tights down and took a look at her beaten bottom in the mirror. She was shocked at the red and purple colouring and it was clear the marks would be there for several days.

After one last look in the mirror, she returned to the banquet and made the excuse of needing some air, to which everyone nodded. She was however sure that a few of the ladies on her table smiled at her in a knowing way as she sat down and slightly squirmed as her bottom rubbed on the fabric of the chair. Nothing further was said and she behaved like the perfect lady for the rest of the evening, determined to make the best of her life and fulfil her full potential.

The End

© Colin Brooks 2025

Colin is happy to be contacted and take feedback from his stories: colinbrookscp@gmail.com.