As you seemed to enjoy Madame Angeline so very much, I thought I might extend her disciplinary adventures a little more…

Usually a good disciplinary session with a deserving lady would sate Madame Angeline’s appetites for a long while. Weeks, perhaps even months. However a mere three days after her visit to Penitent’s Lane, Philippa would not leave her thoughts.

Angeline decided to go shopping to take her mind off her fascination. She enjoyed dressing fashionably and a new dress was a good as a new home, she sometimes thought. Slipping into flattering fabric could change her mood immediately. So thinking, Angeline drove to her favorite boutique where she was welcomed warmly by the shop’s assistants, given a glass of champagne and liberally festooned with fine gowns.

Many times she twirled before the mirror, seeing herself in one light and then another while the assistants heaped praise upon her.

“How beautiful your figure is, Madame Angeline.”

“How long your legs are, Madame Angeline.”

“Your eyes are so beautiful in that color, Madame Angeline.”

She knew they were saying such nice things to encourage her to part with her pounds, but she did not mind. Her tall figure was easily flattered whether she wore a high lace collar or a more scandalous neckline. Angeline admired herself in the multiple mirrors, perhaps her expression was a little haughty, but she could not help that. It was in the natural arch of her brow and the height of her cheekbones and the characterful lines of her cheeks and chin. Her dark hair was ornately piled atop her head, a carefully set curl or two draping down the side of her face. In her self-admiration, she had almost forgotten the reason she’d fled to the little oasis of fashion in the first place.

“I don’t know,” she said, admiring her figure in a long black silk dress. “Perhaps I will browse your wares just one more time. There may be something I have missed.”

It seemed highly unlikely that there was a garment in the store which she had not tried on. At that point dresses were stacked high about the changing room, but it was not about the dresses which had been worn. It was about the dresses she was yet to wear.

Angeline went back to the boutique floor and began flipping through a rack near the door. She was so intensely captured by the flashing fabrics that she paid no mind to those coming and going around her.

“Well, Madame Angeline,” a voice purred. “What a surprise.”

Angeline had been vaguely aware of another person nearby, but she had assumed it was another assistant, or some unimportant stranger. The voice drew her attention immediately and she looked over the rack to see a short woman in a charming cream dress and matching hat. For a moment, Angeline was not sure who the woman was, but when she saw those almond eyes peeking out from under the brim of that fine headgear she found her breath catching in her throat.

“Philippa,” she said, trying to maintain composure at all cost. “How lovely to see you.”

“Madame Angeline,” Philippa replied with what could only be described as a cheeky little smile. “How lovely to see you also. I imagine I look rather different to you now.”

It was true. At Penitent’s Lane, Philippa had seemed almost plain, but there was nothing plain about the elegant lady standing mere feet from Angeline. Angeline particularly admired the way the dress clung to Philippa’s ample curves. The flare of her hip was all too recognizable, and the look in her eyes made Angeline’s heart skip a beat. There was something perpetually naughty about Philippa, something somehow rebellious no matter what she was wearing.

“Yes,” Angeline admitted, her lip curling slightly in amusement. “Rather, you do.”

There was a moment of silence between them. It drew to a tense crescendo before Philippa let out a playful laugh. “I do not know if you are pleased or shocked,” she said, smiling broadly.

“Why not both?” Angeline replied.

Philippa smiled. She took a step toward Angeline and looked up into her face with an arch expression. “I think you should buy me a dress.”

“Buy you a dress? Why would I do such a thing, you impudent little wretch?” The words were harsh, but they were tempered with affection in Angeline’s tone.

“Because I am just a poor working girl and you are a fine lady,” Philippa pouted up at her, reaching out to run her fingers lightly over the embroidered lace which adorned the top of Angeline’s breasts. Angeline inhaled sharply, her nipples becoming hard instantly. The world of fashion faded away, replaced by an impudent little brat and her alluring form.

“Would you ladies like to try something on?” The assistant was suddenly by her elbow, giving a solicitous smile.

“Madame Angeline is going to purchase me a gown,” Philippa announced boldly.

Angeline wasted no time in letting her palm sweep sharply against Philippa’s deserving derriere. The brat had the grace to blush as she yelped and clapped her hands over her fabric clad bottom.

“I apologize for my ward,” Angeline spoke confidently and sternly. “She is spoiled, you understand.”

“Your ward?” Philippa spluttered in high pitched tones. She seemed quite stunned to have had her bottom slapped in public. Her face had gone a rather bright crimson and she no longer seemed quite so sure of herself.

“Would you like me to bring a dress for the lady?” The assistant directed the question to Angeline.

“You can bring me a rod,” she said. “You do have a cane in this store?”

To her credit, the assistant barely batted a lash. “Mr Fortescue keeps a paddle in his office,” she said. “I can have that bought to you, if you require.”

Philippa’s mouth dropped open in a most unladylike fashion. “But…”

“Yes,” Angeline said. “I think it would be best if you bought that to me along with the silver gown I liked earlier. I think that would be quite flattering on this one.”

The assistant made to do Angeline’s bidding, and before Philippa could complain or whine or even close her mouth, Angeline closed her thumb and forefinger on Philippa’s earlobe and led the brat to the relative privacy of the dressing room.

“Madame… Angeline…” Philippa sounded plaintive behind the velvet curtain which usually served to protect modesty, but would surely not protect hers. “I may have been too forward.”

“You may have been,” Angeline agreed, tracing her fingers down Philippa’s flank and cupping her bottom. “You may have provoked me. You may be about to earn the wages of your sin.” She slapped Philippa’s bottom over the fabric of her dress, knowing the sting would be muted, but that it would serve to heat her deserving bottom.

Philippa squirmed and made little plaintive sounds under Angeline’s hard palm, which landed harder and faster with each passing slap. Angeline was rather enjoying herself. She could feel a familiar moistening between her lower lips at the sound and sensation. Spanking Philippa was most enjoyable, for she was the perfect blend of deserving and desiring. Instead of trying to flee, Philippa pressed closer to Angeline, grinding herself against Angeline’s thigh. Her hand splayed on Philippa’s bottom, Angeline lowered her mouth and captured the brat’s pouting lips in a passionate kiss before reaching down and pulling the hem of the dress up over her hip. She was not wearing any undergarments.

Bottom bared, Philippa was caught in Angeline’s grasp. Angeline had a very good handhold in the dress which was bunched up over her bottom. It was then that the spanking truly began, flesh meeting flesh, hard palm painting her wriggling bottom with punishing slaps. Each stroke rang out through the store, letting everyone know that a naughty girl was being punished.

Having spanked Philippa a good six dozen times, Angeline let go of the dress and ran her hand down Philippa’s left thigh, lifting her leg up to provide better access to not just her cheeks, but to the chalice of her womanhood, her wet, squirming cunt which was leaving a trail of desire on Angeline’s dress.

Though she was being disciplined quite soundly, Philippa did not stop grinding, her hips humping back and forth with an animal motion, her mouth open as she breathed in panting gasps which were cut off when Angeline kissed her and dealt a hard swat to those swelling pussy lips, absorbing Philippa’s squeal with her thrusting, demanding tongue.

What a heady sensation, to have an alluring brat melting under her palm, wet with desire, begging for both forgiveness and more punishment. Angeline felt the fire of dominance rushing through her veins, the sheer joy of giving a brat what she needed, of feeling her body respond to the wanton display Philippa was putting on. Somehow the dress was now bunched up around her waist, her breasts spilling out over the neckline, the hem caught over the top of her hips. Philippa was half naked, her bottom was bright red, her dark nipples were hard as two pebbles and looking into those pleading, needy, wanting, beautiful eyes, Angeline knew she had found the one.