Speakeasies and Spankings: a Tale of Two Flappers (for Russianbunny)

[Renton]

Deanna Clarke looked in the mirror and blew a kiss at her reflection. The 22-year old brunette looked particularly good tonight, if she did say so herself. She had recently purchased a new pair of horn-rimmed glasses which looked SO much better than the round ones she'd been wearing since grade school. Her bobbed hair just barely covered her right eyebrow, which she thought looked just seductive enough without being TOO suggestive.

She did a pirouette in the mirror and felt like her look was complete. The young woman was ready to party tonight. She made her way downstairs and hoped her mother didn't have anything to say tonight. She was planning to meet her friend outside the jazz club where they'd be spending the evening. Deanna was excited, but a bit wary of her mother. The woman had mentioned a word to her that day that she hadn't heard since she was a girl: spanking. More specifically, Deanna's mother had straight up told the young woman that, if she didn't start behaving better, she'd get spanked on her bare bottom like a child. She had shaken off the words as empty, but it was hard to ignore so potent a potential threat.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger Benson loved his daughter very much, but he for the life of him could not figure out the appeal of all these new crazes that were sweeping the nation. Why, just the other day a young woman on a bicycle was riding around like a madwoman and nearly ran him over. He had half a mind to give the young woman a spanking himself, but he hoped her own parents might do the job for him.

More than that, there was the nonstop dancing, partying, even drinking! Yes, in his day everyone drank, but at least they had the good sense to keep it to the saloons. Today, liquor was illegal, and yet the young people seemed to flaunt their love of champagne and gin. It wouldn't be so much of a problem if his daughter wasn't one of those people. He had raised her alone since her mother died more than a decade ago, and he was a strict disciplinarian. Despite her being a legal adult now, he still spanked her frequently. As he saw it, her age was an arbitrary reason to stop disciplining her when she needed it, and she seemed to need it now more often than when she was a girl.

The 45-year-old sported black hair that was always impeccably combed. A very wealthy banker, he was a vision of turn of the century style and class, a far cry from the raucousness his daughter embraced. And yes, Roger was not a total curmudgeon. He allowed his daughter to party. She just had to not get home at ungodly hours or otherwise do anything that might tarnish his good name.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Tabatha Clarke remained downstairs as her daughter primped herself for whatever party she was planning on attending now. She said that she was going out with her best friend, Emily, the banker's daughter, but as a mother of a new free-spirited daughter, she knew very well that Deanna could be going out with anyone.

She wasn't as against some of the styles of the ages. She could understand the appear of shorter dresses, to the younger crowd at least (since all children had their wild sides). Of course, she disapproved of the short, sparkly flapper dresses that Emily Benson wore: it showed her knees, after all! And Tabatha was one hundred percent sure that the girl's father disapproved completely of his daughter's new fashion choices.

And she had allowed her daughter to cut her hair, as long as it wasn't suggestive. Unfortunately, Deanna had taken that the wrong way, cut it a little too short, and earned herself an extremely stern scolding from her mother and her father. (And Mr. Clarke didn't scold his daughter too often, since he worked sixteen hours a day in the factory to support them.) But, since the hair was cut, there wasn't too much to be done, except to threaten her to shape up, or get her bottom warmed, a threat she hadn't used since Deanna was eleven.

"Deanna!" her mother called from the kitchen, where she was reading the evening newspaper and doing the crossword. She'd heard her daughter's footsteps coming down the stairs. "I want to see what you're wearing before you leave!"


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"Daddy, I'm heading out now!" Emily Benson shouted down the stairs as she headed to the ground floor, towards the front door. She was already late for meeting Deanna, and she didn't want her friend to wait! She had wrapped herself up in a fashionable brown duster, with fur at the collar that snuggled around her neck and shoulders; it had been her mother's, a gift from Mr. Benson before his wife's death, and Emily had received it for her eighteen birthday, three years ago. She treasured it, and right now it would be very helpful. One, because it was chilly outside.

And two, which was more important: it completely covered her dress now, and she knew if her father saw it, she would be in huge trouble. He was still pretty miffed about her cutting her hair to a shoulder-length bob, and her dress - sparkly red, with no sleeves, barely reaching her knees - would surely cause him a heart attack, or the superpower to breathe fire. Emily couldn't help herself, though! It was so pretty, and she knew it complimented her legs and figure well: it made her blonde hair seem more blonde (her favorite trait she received from her mother), and her brown eyes darker and more adult.

Emily knew well enough that her father only wanted what was best for her... but he was just so old! And old-fashioned! He didn't know anything about what was modern or snazzy: she couldn't drink, she couldn't stay out past ten-thirty, and she couldn't date any boys. The first two, she argued night and day with him about; honestly, she couldn't care less about boys, even though it was very, very fun to dance with them. Still, his silly rules made her life awfully difficult sometimes, especially since he still spanked her, even though she was twenty-one!

This was part of the reason she needed to get out now: not only was she dress to the nines, she also had a flask of booze in her purse, hidden in a secret pocket. If drinking were still legal, she would be old enough to drink, but it was illegal, and she'd been told repeatedly that drinking was "unladylike". She knew very well if her daddy caught that, she might never sit again.

[Renton]

Deanna heard her mother call and groaned. She looked again at her outfit. She loved it, but she knew her mother wouldn't approve. The green sequined dress ended just above her knees, and was cut very low. Deanna felt it wasn't that provocative, but her mother would probably disagree. Still, the young woman felt it was time to assert herself! She was 22 and an independent woman and she was going to wear what she wanted to wear.

"Coming, mother!" She called, adjusting her dress hopelessly. Deanna had well-endowed bosom, but she wanted to make this as painless as possible. She ran back to her room grabbed a large red hat and put it on to cover her hair, and a long silk scarf to cover her chest.

She ran downstairs and greeted her mother. "I'm in a bit of a rush mother," she said, hoping to get out the door quickly. "Emily is waiting for me."


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"Hold up there, sweetie, let me get a look at you," Roger said as his daughter headed for the door. He didn't want to interrogate his daughter. In fact, it did make him feel happy to see that she'd grown into a beautiful young woman. He lookd at Emily and smiled. "You're as pretty as your mother the day I met her," he said, proudly, kissing Emily on the cheek.

He was a bit suspicious about the dress Emily was wearing underneath the duster, but he felt it would be inappropriate to demand that she start removing clothing in order for him to inspect her outfits. While Roger had no qualms with spanking Emily's bare bottom (it was just how spankings were given, he thought) he otherwise always respected her modesty, even as her clothing choices grew more and more wild (in his view, anyway).

"Have fun, love," he said, letting Emily go. "Don't stay out too late, and no speakeasies," he added. "I don't need my daughter's name in the arrest records in the papers for violating prohibition."

He went back to his office, not all that worried about Emily tonight. He knew the Clarkes for their daughters' friendship and while they were working class (rarely the type he'd associate with regularly) they were good, honest people. Even if Deanna was one of those "flapper girls", she came from good stock, he thought. With that, he retired to his office for the evening.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Tabatha looked over at her daughter when she peeked her head in through the window. Well, the hat certainly helped. She was rather proud of her for putting it on, rather than making a fuss about her short hair (or worse, chopping it all off). And the scarf she'd put on was rather nice, complimenting the green dress.

She raised her eyebrows at her dress' length, though. "Deanna Clarke, you know very well that your dress is too short!" she scolded. She recognized the dress: it was much nicer than anything she and her husband could afford without saving like crazy, unfortunately, so it must have been a gift from Emily. "I don't care if it makes you late, but you're going to go upstairs and change into something less revealing. Right now, young lady."


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"Yes, Daddy," Emily responded to his rules, then she kissed his cheek. The jazz club she and Deanna were attending didn't have alcohol anyway (which was why she was bringing her own), and she knew from experience that there were several clocks on the wall, so they shouldn't be out too late...

And besides, Emily thought, typing the coat around her waist as she saw her father head towards his office, Jonah's dad is a police officer, and I know for a fact that he helps keep several speakeasies running! Jonah was a good friend of both hers and Deanna's, and she was almost completely positive that he had a crush on her friend.

Grabbing the keys to the car in the bowl by the door, Emily headed out. Originally, her father hadn't wanted her to drive at all, but when she pointed out that the Clarke family didn't own a car, and if she and Deanna wanted to go anywhere, they'd need to walk all over town or hitch-hike... The banker had caved in pretty quickly after that.

[Renton]

Deanna was nervous as her mother inspected her outfit. She thought she might be in the clear, but then her mother told her that it was too short, and to change it at once. Deanna felt the annoyance in her gut transform into outright frustration. "Mother, no! I can't be late!" she said, adding the second part rather defiantly, crossing her arms. It wasn't just Emily she didn't want to be late for. Deanna knew that she and Emily's friend Jonah would be joining them tonight, and she had more than a crush ln the young man. But Deanna wasn't going to reveal that detail to her mother.

She knew she shouldn't be mouthing off like this, but she felt like she had a head of steam. "And Emily leant me this dress for tonight, mother! It would be rude not to wear it, and it's not shorter than anything other girls will be wearing!"

Deanna took a deep breath and added one last line before her mother could interject.

"Besides, I'm 22 now. You can't tell me what to wear." Deanna felt a surge of self-satisfaction, immediately followed by an intense worry about how her mother would respond. She didn't honestly think her mother would spank her (she hadn't been spanked since she was a little girl, after all) but she also knew that crossing Tabatha was a bad idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger went back to his office and didn't think twice about his daughter. As she got into her car and drove off, he realized that he had made more than a few concessions to keep her happy. While he still spanked her, she was in many ways spoiled as well. In Roger's mind, there was a decent balance at least. But still, he started to wonder if his daughter really was being honest with him about her plans for the night. He knew the girls liked to spend time with a young man named Jonah, who was the son of the a high ranking police officer. Rumors abounded that this cop helped protect a number of speakeasies in the city, but nothing had been proven. Once this thought entered his head, Roger couldn't shake it, but he figured there was nothing to be done now, so he distracted himself by sitting down to read.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Tabatha frowned at her daughter's attitude, and she closed the newspaper, standing up. "Deanna Clarke, your attitude is inappropriate. It doesn't matter to me what your friends will be wearing, but I will not let my daughter go out with a dress that is too short. And I know very well that if Mr. Benson knew Emily lent you that dress to wear tonight, he would disapprove as well." Everyone in the Clarke household, after all, knew how the banker let his displeasure out on his daughter's bottom.

"Yes, you are twenty-two, but you're acting like you're a bratty child." Tabatha continued, walking over to her daughter and taking her ear before she could flee the kitchen. "And you sorely need an attitude adjustment." With that, the mother lead her into the living room, where she sat on the couch and pulled her daughter over her knee. Despite being in her forties, Tabatha was still quite strong, strong enough to hold her daughter in place for a sincere spanking.


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It wasn't a lie that Emily was a little spoiled. The Benson family had always had wealth: it had been that way for at least four generations, and Emily's mother's family had been wealthy as well. However, Mr. Benson's discipline - along with being friends with Deanna and her working-class family - helped her from becoming too spoiled. And her father almost always pointed out when she was acting like a brat, then nipped it in the bud.

Despite being late, Emily did arrive to the jazz club early, earlier than Deanna at least. She knew that Deanna had planned on walking, since it was a block away from her house, while the Benson residence was on the other side of town. She was a little surprised, but ignored that feeling as she headed inside, showed her ID, and almost immediately found Jonah.

"Hey, Emily!" Jonah said, giving her a grin as she sat down at the table with him. There was one empty seat left, and they knew Deanna would have it, when she got there. "Was that your pop's breezer I saw out there?"

Emily stuck out her tongue a bit. Jonah's dad had gotten him a breezer (a convertible car) recently, and he liked rubbing it in a bit with her, though not blatantly. "You know it's not, bozo. If he saw yours, he'd think you were a hoodlum."

Jonah laughed again. "So, he didn't mind you going out tonight?"

"Nope!" Emily chirped, taking off her coat. Jonah whistled, looking a little confused.

"He see your dress?" When Emily shook her head, Jonah pointed to the band playing. More specifically, the piano player. "Then be careful. Ain't that Lorenzo?"

Emily looked over and whimpered. He was one of the new bankers, and a huge suck-up to her father. She was pretty sure he was the one to polish the picture of her on her father's desk at work. "Oh, I'm gonna be dead when I get home."

[Renton]

Deanna knew she had made a mistake when Tabatha launched into a lecture about the dress and how Deanna was being a brat. "Geez, momma, okay, I'll change out!" She said attempting to flee before Tabatha grabbed her ear.

"Ouch! Mother, what on earth!" She shouted as Tabatha led her into the living room over to the couch. It was all happening so fast. Deanna had been in this position before, and she could hardly believe it.

"Mama! What are you doing!" she cried out desperately as her mother pulled her over her lap. She was astonished at the ease with which Tabatha accomplished this, the older woman being well practiced in the art of delivering a spanking with minimal resistance.

As she lay across her mother's lap, her legs up on the couch, and her torso partially draped on the edge so that her right arm was on the floor, she felt helpless and rather panicked. She had no idea it would come to this. "Mama! This is insane! Stop it!" She shouted, trying to peer up over her left shoulder, her glasses skewed on her face.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Carefully, Tabatha took her daughter's glasses off her face and set it on the small table near the couch. They didn't need those breaking, especially from something as silly as a spanking. "No, it's not, Deanna," she said, lifting up her daughter's dress and pulling down her bloomers. "You were rude and childishly bratty to me, and you do not treat anybody that way. You do not disobey me when I tell you to do something, like to dress more appropriately."

And with that said, she brought down her hand across her daughter's bottom, blooming a pink handprint across the flesh, and she continued the spanking swiftly. She put more force into it than she had for Deanna's childhood spankings, because of the obvious age difference, and because Deanna needed to learn this lesson quickly.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"He's not looking over here, is he?" Emily asked Jonah softly, slumping down a little in hopes of making herself invisible. It was impossible, though, because of her bright dress and hair.

Jonah looked over as the set stopped. They clapped, and he shook his head at her. "No, but he's going over to the phone booth," he answered.

Emily sighed and brought her flash out to take a long drink. "Come on," she said after a moment, when the container was empty, and she shoved it back into her purse carelessly. "Dance with me!" And she dragged him onto the dance floor. Unfortunately for her, Jonah was a terrible dancer, which made hers and his dancing all the more obvious to those around them.

[Renton]

Deanna could scarcely believe what was happening. She whimpered as her mother removed her glasses and tugged down her bloomers, her cheeks blushing brightly as her pert, plump bottom was exposed. Deanna was a fit but curvy girl and her bare bottom showed this more than anything.

"Momma, please!" she begged pitifully as she felt the room's cool air on her buttocks. "I'm sorry! I'll obey you I promise!"

It was to no avail, as she felt the first sharp SMACK on her bare bottom.

"OUCH!" she yelped, stunned by the sting. Her mother continued to spank her and she began to kick and squirm, still unable to believe that she was being spanked.

"Please, Mamma," she sobbed as her bottom began to redden. "I'm sorry! Please stop!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Playing piano was a rare release for Lorenzo Maggs, a 22-year old banker at Hartworth and Benson, the bank he'd been working at for a year now. The young man had landed a job as an assistant to Roger Benson himself. Sure, Roger's brother was the head of the bank, but Roger was still a major figure and working directly for him would surely lead to bigger and better things. Unfortunately, working for Roger Benson at age 22 meant kissing up to him in every way possible. And a couple of months ago, Lorenzo had gotten into some heat with his boss when it was revealed that he had been at the same speakeasy as Emily Benson on a night she'd gotten tipsy with her bespectacled best friend. Her daddy wasn't happy about his daughter getting drunk in public, and was even less happy that his assistant had been there the whole time without saying a word.

In short, Lorenzo had a standing order to inform Roger of his daughter's whereabouts should their paths cross at houses of less-than-stellar reputation. "I don't give a damn what you do in your spare time," Roger had told Lorenzo, "But consider it part of your job that you don't let my daughter embarrass herself if you cross paths again."

So he had tracked down this little bar and played piano on the side to relax. Work had gotten too stressful. And then, well, he saw a very familiar shock of blonde hair. Lorenzo froze, and the two locked nervous eyes for a moment. And Lorenzo felt himself panic. He could pretend this didn't happen, but someone had ratted him out before and someone might do it again. His job was a coveted one, after all, and there were potential rivals all over the speakeasy scene. No, he thought. He had to tell Roger. It was his job. If he didn't, he'd be risking it.

So being as surreptitious as possible, he slunk away from the piano to the phone booth. He called Roger Benson.

"Hello?" Roger said on the other side of the line.

"Mr. Benson? This is Lorenzo."

Roger was quiet.

"This is my daughter, isn't it. Well, just tell me, is she drinking?"

Lorenzo felt awful being a tattle, but the way he saw it a sore backside for Emily was worth his job. "Yes, sir. She had a flask."

He heard Roger sigh. "That's all I needed to hear. Thanks, Lorenzo."

The young man hung up and quickly tried to sneak out of the bar. He didn't want to have to deal with this situation anymore.

Back at the Benson household, Roger was shaking his head. His daughter had lied to him indeed. And there was nothing much to do now but wait for her so she could get was coming to her.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Tabatha nearly rolled her eyes at her daughter's histrionics. Her bottom was barely pink all over; there was no reason to start crying now. By the end of her spanking, her mother knew very well that her daughter's bottom was going to be red, and if she still wanted to go out with Emily - in a different dress, of course - then she'd be going out with a very sore bottom.

"I will stop when I can tell you've learned your lesson," Tabatha stated calmly, bringing down her hand in a swat-two-places-then-move-on sort of pattern. She knew well enough that it would cause much more sting than simply swatting a spot once, and if Tabatha was anything, it was thorough.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Thankfully for Emily, she could hold her alcohol well, so she didn't fear herself accidentally kissing Jonah, or becoming clingy to him, or ending up crying in the bathroom over something small, or running after Lorenzo and calling him terrible names and hitting him. She had seen other people do that though (and Deanna had once done the first, and both parties had blushed), so she was quite aware with how inebriation could make people act.

And besides, the flash could barely hold a glass and a half, and that was just enough to get tipsy, if she put in the strong stuff. Most bar tenders refused to sell that to a woman, so she had to settle for less more often than not.

"I don't like him," Emily said, watching Lorenzo with a glare as he skedaddled on out of the bar. "I don't like him at all."

"Why, 'cause he ratted on you?" Jonah asked. The trumpet player was furiously trying to find someone else to play the piano, so right now, the only instruments playing were the saxophone, some of the smaller drums, and a fast-talking man.

Emily nodded. "I can never have any fun. Not with him and Daddy around." Not to mention, she was pretty sure half of the reason her daddy got so mad at her actions, wasn't even because of her. It was because he loved his reputation so much, and he was afraid she would ruin it. That always made her feel so insignificant and angry.