Spanking Our Daughters Sisterhood

Note to Readers

Everyone I write about in this fantasy is 18 or older. The events take place in Blue Popcorn Springs, in the Rocky Mountain region of what had been the USA prior to the chaos of 2025. It is the home of Margaret Thatcher College (MTC). There is no direct connection between this story of a recent Spanking Our Daughters Sisterhood club meeting (composed of mothers of high school 18+ daughters) and previous stories about Miss Merriweather Cradle's disciplinarian's job at the College. (The College Behavior Advisor stories.)

The misbehavior of men and boys, as well and women and girls, gets corrected in the Springs. The College is all women. Men haven't organized a Fathers Who Spank Sons club. It is what it is. The discipline of men and the boys (is there a difference?) doesn't intrude in this fantasy. Sue me.

Traditionally, Springs mothers are the family disciplinarians, but plenty of children are familiar with the refrain, "wait until your father gets home." There is a rumor that a young man will join MTC's disciplinarian staff next semester. I haven't peeked in any windows to discover if many more Blue Popcorn Springs husbands domestically discipline their wives than the reverse, but I suspect it is true.

If a story without actual sex isn't worth reading, please don't read this one.

----

Thursday, October 12, 20XX, 7:07 pm.

Barbara Melrose, Chair

Blue Popcorn Springs High School, multi-purpose room

"Ladies, time to start. Everyone except Ruth is

finally

here. I call this meeting of the Blue Popcorn Springs

Spanking our Daughters Sisterhood

(SODS) club to order. Janice, you were not here on time. Please give yourself a traditional SODS reminder."

"Yes, Mrs. Stone." Janice, a single mother, blushes. She rucks up the hem of her dainty turquoise and white casual dress. The petite, basic-brown haired woman's cellulite-free legs and somewhat full hips come into view. Pushing her tights and mid-rise cream color panties down to an inverted tangle at her knees, she shifts her grip on the hem and raises it high in back.

Using a large 2-inch sand and maroon safety pin from Blue Popcorn Springs High School, Meagan, the SODS club secretary, pins the hem shoulder high. Janice sits on a metal folding chair.

"Tardy Mrs. Sanford, have you forgotten something? You were seven minutes late." Barb Melrose, chair of SODS, exudes authority in her tailored burgundy realtor's business suit.

Nodding a face further suffused with red, Janice responds, "Oh, yes, Ma'am. I'm so sorry." Rising, Janice walks to a sideboard, reluctantly reaches for one of SODS's coarse-wool door mats, repurposed as a chair mat, and resumes her seat. Her bare 'seat' rests on a very prickly, itchy surface.

More than one woman describes the itch of these mats as worse than what happens when she shaves between her legs around her privates and the stubs grow out too long, too fast. Worse times a thousand.

Janice, still roiled by her long day at work and her daughter June's contributions to her tardiness, mulls spanking said daughter that night by hand and with the family strap when she got home. By the SODS' coffee break, adding a pre-school morning spanking for June seemed eminently reasonable to Janice.

The mats feature the logo of the SODS club: A hairbrush on a field of glossy red, with their initials underneath.

The multipurpose room's dimmable lights cast a warm glow over the room. A faint odor of freshly ground coffee and homemade chocolate muffins wafts over the twenty-three attendees. Nancy Cradle, mother of three daughters, Merriweather, Sunday, and River, is tonight's hostess. She receives many compliments, only a few of which are pro forma.

"Old business first," Barb announces in her role as chair.

As she starts, another mother enters the room. Ruth is one of the founding SODS mothers and quite late tonight by SODS's standard.

We must model what our daughters should be.

"Eleven minutes late, Ruth," Barb announces. "To be clear, the Board did not excuse Ruth's absence from the last meeting nor her tardiness tonight."

Barb shifts back to the main topic. "Principal Jean Rump shared with us the success of the CCTV cameras in the classrooms and hallways. Based on the recommendation of two of our members -- thank you, Kim and Sam -- whose daughters were discovered smoking in a bathroom last year, we paid for the installation of motion-sensitive cameras in front of each bathroom door. The video time stamps all entrances and exits."

Barb continues her summary of old business. "Principal Rump reported on the general success of our Spanked at Home, Spanked at School Discipline Days last year. She presented statistics about the number of girls disciplined, what choices mothers made for their school consequences and the like. She cautioned us that some of our girls became blasé about their discipline days by the end of the last trimester.

"Perhaps the mothers, too?"

That's us, ladies. It is a question I intend to put on the next meeting's agenda.

"The Principal furnished us with an abbreviated version of similar statistics about the boys. They are in the minutes for those of you with sons."

Without prompting, while Barb continues, Ruth removes her floral short sleeve dress. Knowing before the meeting her responsibility, her matching blue-gray bra and panty set is neither granny nor boudoir. Just quality.

Ruth approaches the wall next to Janice, lowers her panties to her knees and spreads her legs just far enough to prevent gravity slithering them ankle-ward. Finally, as her nose touches the wall, her hands join atop her bottle blonde hair.

"Time begins," calls Meg, the club secretary. Ruth knows she must stay at the wall for 11 minutes before she may sit in her re-donned dress, rucked up to her waist, on her own itchy wool sitting mat. Those are her consequences, for the moment, for missing a meeting without a valid excuse.

Operating on a 'we are their role models' and 'good for daughter, good for mother' philosophy, many of the mothers are hawk eyed about SODS miscreants squirming. Ruth and Janice freeze in place.

Barb continues her summary of the last meeting. "The Principal reported there seems to be a reluctance to have our daughters bare their bottoms in school for any length of time. Perhaps because of the presence of boys in the halls and lunchroom, even though we know embarrassment and humiliation help girls and young women make wiser future choices? Inconsistent consequences? Our waffling? Lack of communication among us?

"Principal Rump reported that over the past two months, there have been only two instances when there was a request by a mother for her daughter to lose her panty privilege for more than the first hour of school. No girls went without panties at a mother's initial request for an entire school day. Comparatively, last year, a majority of our girls experienced at least one day without panty privileges at school."

After approval of the minutes of the last meeting minutes, Barb turns to new business.

"I don't know if you have met Sarah Little. Sarah and her 18-year-old daughter Amanda moved here from Belize. After our last meeting, she and I had lunch. She mentioned an innovation their Mothers Who Spank club in Belize is having splendid success with for their equivalent of our Spanked at Home, Spanked at School discipline days. Punishment panties.

"There a mother may direct, as one choice in the note from home, that her daughter wears special punishment parties while at school. Sarah, would you tell us about the panties your club employed? Which, by the way ladies, their club purchased for the school."

"Thank you, Barb. I'm so glad to be here with mothers who care about their daughters. My Amanda is making friends and fitting in." With a smile she adds, "Well, at first with a bit of push back expected from any teenage girl uprooted and replanted in a new school." Smiles and chuckles greeted her words.

"Our Belize club formed a partnership with our high school for implementing 'punished at home, punished at school' discipline. Our girls were behaving, certainly better than most of us when we were on the teen-woman roller coaster." Laughter and comments such as "true" greeted this observation.

"However, we noticed that the mothers involved in our club were not consistent in their requests for specific consequences for their daughters for the 'at school' portion of their punishments. There was a second issue. We believed it was necessary to come up with more creative consequences for our girls at school, as the behavior changing effectiveness of the existing ones seemed to have declined over time.

"Barb asked me to explain one of our innovations to you tonight.

"Merely baring bottoms for a brief -- pun intended, I'm sorry -- period at school had lost a bit of bite." The sisterhood assembled laugh. "In part because of how we mothers asked the school to impose it."

"So, what actions did we implement to make our Home-School Partnership Days more effective, more 'memorable' if you wish, for our daughters? We discovered significant research that proves discipline, not punishment but rather discipline, has a more significant and enduring impact on girls when they learn the lesson in the presence of their peers."

Sarah's voice bubbles with the excitement of a new religious convert happening upon unenlightened pilgrims who might benefit from newfound learning. "We brainstormed many ideas for more effective Partnership days ... and not incidentally, we all gained some ideas for use at home.

"One idea we discussed was punishment panties."

Barb interjected. "Sorry, Sarah, to interrupt. Their club offers us several other fascinating ideas. We agreed to put them over for our next meeting. Please continue, Sarah.

Only an experienced mother might notice Sarah's slight changes of position in her chair while she had been speaking. There are several such mothers present.

"The basic idea of punishment panties is they must be uncomfortable to wear, particularly after a bare-bottom spanking. They must remind the naughty girl throughout the day why she must change her ways. At school, they are embarrassing, discomforting, as well as disciplinary.

"Our brainstorming ideas for panties? Using long-hair wool that itches like crazy. Panties lined with the grippy side of velcro. Panties coated with the type of adhesive on bandages that ouches when pulled off skin. A diaper like panty with wet, gritty sand in it. A rough sandpaper gusset for a panty. One club mother's mother put bottle caps in her undies.

"Some mothers suggested panty liners saturated with a pepper oil such as capsaicin. Those women thought school nurses should re-saturate the liner every couple of hours. Eventually, we decided the slight risk of harm from first- to third-degree burns exceeded the benefit. Not to mention UTI's.

"Other ideas? Sandpaper panty-girdles. Latex panties to hold in heat and sweat. Coarse burlap panties were my favorite," Sarah adds with a wink.

"Wild ideas. We quickly determined whatever panties we chose, they should be one size smaller than normally worn by our daughters. We tried everything." Sarah's slight squirms continue for trained eyes to see.

"Tried everything, Sarah? Tell the girls what you mean by 'tried everything'." Barb springs the rehearsed question.

"Ok, Barb." Said with the slightest of sighs ... and the gleam of a woman imparting religious truth.

"Our Mothers Who Spank club believes we should not punish or discipline our daughters unless we have, or had as girls, experienced the same discipline or consequences. Or tried it as an adult. After a committee narrowed our choices to three, we all tried wearing punishment panties. We made or bought enough panties of each of the three trial styles so every woman in the club could experience the discomfort level of each.

"Worse, or better I guess for realistic testing, we pledged to wear each trial panty for as long as our girls would at school, or about eight hours. I tried wearing mine to work one day. For the love of the gods, it kept me in the moment."

Not all the giggles and smiles hide behind coffee cups.

Someone in the audience blurts, "Which one did you choose?"

Another shouts: "Were the girls pinned up front and back all day?" A third mother adds: "Which one is the nastiest?"

Sarah skips the questions. "When possible, we agreed to have a monitor for our own eight-hour compliance tests. My daughter Amanda monitored me for three consecutive weekends while I worked around the house wearing each of the punishment panties. Each time I used the bathroom, Amanda checked I had completely pulled up my panties when I came out. By tugging them up, front and back, as if she was giving me a wedgie. Ugh. My lovely daughter did not cut me any slack.

"We, my daughter and I, each tried all three panty variations. We then made a deal. One of the punishment panties would become part of her discipline regimen at home. However, if I commit two of my worst sins, swearing or getting any type of traffic ticket,

including

parking tickets, I must wear the panties under her supervision.

"Each time I break these two 'house rules' is a constant reminder I failed. Failed myself and my daughter. I'm supposed to be the adult role model. Our two special punishment panties hang on hooks in the laundry room."

Someone asks, "How many times have you worn punishment panties, Sarah?"

"I'm wearing them now."

Pin-dropping silence, followed by a clamor demanding a runway showing met this revelation.

Sarah rises, hikes her peridot, lace-trimmed dress's hem above her waist, and faces the women. Color blooms on her face and neck, and she closes her eyes briefly before resolutely opening them, albeit lowered to the floor.

Several "OMG's" echo through the room. Hands cover mouths. Most eyes frankly stare. Curiosity mingles with nascent warm speculation and/or discomforting premonitions about putting them on themselves. Sarah turns slowly, so the women get a full view. Conversation breaks out across the room.

When she has her back to the audience, Sarah lowers her punishment underpants to her knees. Exposing the all-coarse-wool inside. Revealing a red bottom.

Her special panties are sheep's wool gray, befitting the unrefined material they are made from. They appear bulky, resembling a diaper swollen by pee. A tight elastic band of wool, wrapped beneath spandex, tightens the waist of Sarah's correctional panties, while matching but thinner constricting bands clinch her thighs about the leg holes.

"Thank you, Sarah. Sarah consented to this demonstration."

The mothers notice another feature of the panties on display that differs from normal ones, no matter how sexy or practical, they are wearing. Thin straps extend from each side of Sarah's panties' waist band and from the gusset and meet in the rear.

"My daughter Amanda supervised the tightening of my panty's straps for tonight's meeting." The lock is neon pink. "It is not as awfully tight as she made it when I got a parking ticket AND swore, thank goodness."

More than one mother's whispered,

"your daughter?"

meets this information.

"Our Belize club recommended simple wool panties without the tightening straps to my daughter's old school. We kept the trial ones with tightening straps for," Sarah grins, "home use."

She continues, "Amanda will wear her punishment panties tomorrow at school. My daughter refused to help me at first; she begged me not to let you know about punishment panties. '

All the girls will hate me when they learn MY MOM brought these horrible panties to my new school.

' Yadda, yadda.

"I put a stop to that nonsense. I offered her a choice. Wear punishment panties at school tomorrow. OR, if she continued, I would be happy to help correct her disobedient attitude by adding a morning spanking before school. Every day until she wears them to school."

"Sarah, thank you. Please put your dress back on." Barb says.

After a lively discussion, which included another reveal of Sarah's panties so the women could feel the fabric's itchiness and bulk, Bert brought the meeting towards a close. They would talk about consistency of consequences meted out by mothers, such as for curfews or tardies at school, at the next SODS meeting.

"So," Barb informs the club, "we decided Sarah, Janice, Ariel, and Kaylee will collaborate on generating ideas for punishment panties and present their suggestions at a forthcoming meeting. If anyone is interested in trying out 'wool panties' without the cinch straps like the ones adopted by the Belize mothers, Meg will email you the supplier's website address.

"I plan on getting a set for my daughter, Jamie. And," she adds with a mischievous smile, "I'll make sure they're one size too small.

"Ruth, please stand up. You, too, Janice. Do either of you have any excuse?"

"No, Ma'am," each replies.

The air crackles with anticipation, empathy, and a bit of unhidden delight, as the mothers settle in to enjoy what they know will happen to Ruth and Janice.

"Let us get started," declares Barb. "You both have been members of SODS long enough to know how we punish curfew violations in this club. Just the way we do with our daughters. Since you are both wearing dresses and not skirts, please remove your dresses. Leave your panties down.

"Meg, who is this meeting's Mother?"

"That would be ... Tillie."

As is fitting when SODS members need a 'straightener,' it is the night's Mother who dispenses it.

Tillie makes the miscreants move chairs to the front of the room. The club mothers shuffle their own chairs back for better viewing. Tillie barely needs to prompt Janice to get into position.

Janice's breasts, snugly embraced by a smooth white bra through which pebbled nipples emerge, gently press against the front of the chair. Her hands clasp the underside of the seat, with her fingers trembling slightly. The curve of her hips accentuates the captivating view between her legs, tantalizingly exposed to anyone who glances in her direction. Everyone glances. This view, along with her adorable and spankable cheeks, becomes the center of attention for every woman as they contemplate how they might appear if displayed like Janice. Body-comparisons are... problematic for most.

Deep down, Janice understands that this vulnerable display is an essential aspect of the discipline she needs. It is in such moments of embarrassment and vulnerability that true growth and self-reflection can occur. Particularly for adults who no longer receive regular correction at home. Despite this understanding, her bra is damp under her breasts.

Meg hands Tillie SODS's leather strap.

Mother Tillie decides to have some fun while giving Janice her seven demerit spanks with the strap. She starts with a strong thwack on one cheek and then a sound smack to the other bottom cheek. Tillie repeats the pattern twice; these spanks make Janice jerk one foot and cry "ooh" and "eee." The seventh and harshest spank leaves a vibrant crimson rectangle on Janice's bottom, although the pinkish red of the other six is noticeable as the background.

Standing and massaging her cheeks with her hands, Janice turns to Tillie and utters the normal closing. "Thank you, Janice."

Tillie responds, merging a "you're welcome," into a joint hug.

"Ruth, you're next." Mother Tillie states, returning to her duty. "There are twenty-three of us present tonight, so your absence last meeting earned you twenty-three demerits."

Ruth obligingly bends over her chair, grips the seat, and waits. Each mother will get a turn to whack Ruth with her hand once. As hard or, and this is rare, as softly as the spanker desires. Punctuality is a tenet the members endorse.