LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

1948: Aunt Jane's Rules
Things could be difficult when four women had to share a house. And it was all the more difficult when it was Aunt Jane's house and she got to make all the rules.

Like so many women of her generation, Jane had never married. Amy sometimes conjured up a long lost love for her: a dashing captain who never returned from Flanders. Maybe there was such a man, but if Jane ever had such a past she kept it firmly to herself.

Jane was the last of the Edwardians, or so she styled herself. She'd even had a governess back in the day, or so she said. And in her day, girls knew their place.

Girls. There was the other thing. A woman was someone who came in to do the washing and cleaning. A lady, such as she, kept a house. All other female persons were definitely only girls. Even Amy's mother, Mary, who was almost 37.

Mary had brought Amy to live with her Aunt Jane in late 1946. The war was over and it was obvious even to Mary that her husband was never coming home. The house had gone in 1940 and since then Mary and Amy had shared an ever-changing set of temporary digs.

The other 'girl' in the house was Tommy. Tommy, whom Jane insisted on calling Thomasina, the name her parents had saddled her with, was another of Jane's nieces, Mary's first cousin. But at least Tommy was used to Aunt Jane's ways, having lived with her since 1936, when she was 16.

In the war, Tommy had served with the WRNS. The post war housing shortage had brought her back to Jane. She always said that the navy was not half as tough as living with Aunt Jane.

It was the first week of 1948 and 19-year-old Amy was learning that she was not too old for a spanking.

Amy had been brought up on spankings. With her father away and the world falling about their ears, mother had had no time for 'nonsense' as she called it. But things had eased off in that department until they came to Jane's. Thereafter life had taken on a distinct edge, and some days Amy could not even bear to look at a chair.

"Amy Louise Jones, you come with me this instant!" Her mother had set her jaw in that way that said she meant business.

"Ouch kid, your tail is toast," Tommy grimaced sympathetically as she slouched in the armchair. But despite her jocular manner, she unconsciously sat up straighter; no doubt Mary's scolding tone putting her in mind of Aunt Jane.

Amy sighed and walked with leaden steps to the kitchen where her mother was waiting. She hated the kitchen at times such as these. At least in the old days mother had taken her to her room.

"Mummy I..."