Miss Nancy’s Weight Class Ch. 01

Girl On

[This story deals with women’s bodily functions, all three of them. If this bothers you, please read no further. All characters are well over 18.]

***

Word had quickly gone around the little group of middle-aged women who got together every fortnight to relax over a nice meal and catch each other up on what had gone on with their families and their world in general since the last time. They were all in their mid to late forties and although they expended a great deal of effort in watching their intake and exercising, even at a gym, time was starting to affect their shapes.

Julianne had looked closely in the bedroom mirror that morning and had difficulty keeping the disdain she felt for herself inside her that day. Her waist and hips seemed to have obliviated the charming curves and her breasts were larger and sagging. It turned out that one time or another Liz, Dianne, and Wendy had experienced the same shock when they allowed themselves to gaze into the mirror.

They now noticed that they were not the only ones. Their husbands had also slowly let themselves go. Most worked long hours and didn’t go to the gym much anymore, much less get out on either the tennis or basketball court. And no matter what they said, golf in the age of the electric cart, which most clubs required players to use, did not provide much strenuous exercise.

She had been speaking with her sister-in-law Andrea, who lived not too far away, and heard from her about an unusual fitness and weight program. Andrea said she had felt she needed something drastic to conquer her constant snacking and consequent acquisition of avoirdupois around her hips and waist. She had been introduced and taken to a salon that was designed for women their age.

It was something of an all-purpose operation, with hair and nail salons up front, and then a gym back behind them. The hostess at the front counter would ask what services you were here for and directed clients to the selected salon. Andrea said that in the late afternoon, at about 3:30, a spirited young woman named Nancy conducted exercise sessions aimed at a middle-aged clientele.

“She does have you go through the usual warm-ups,” Andrea described, “but then you are weighed and unless you have lost quite a few pounds since last week, Nancy informs you that you have been naughty. Let me tell you, this made me feel like about a ten-year-old, as this shapely woman in her mid-20s evaluated me and was readying me to receive actual physical punishment.”

Andrea stopped and took a moment to breathe. “As if you were back in a school of many years ago,” she went on, “or in a home in old times where there was a strict governess in charge, Nancy will, in a slightly sharp tone, tell you to lift your skirt or take your pants down. Then she will come over and unceremoniously, in front of the five or so other women in the class, lower your panties to mid-thigh. She proceeds to sit down on a strong chair and beckon you with her forefinger to come over to her and lie on her lap. You are now face down in the classic spanking position and Miss Nancy will spank the living daylights out of you.”

Julianne could hardly believe what she was hearing. Not only did this seem unbelievable but it was obvious that a good number of women were taking advantage of this service. But Andrea kept telling her about it, clearly having recognized that for her, it had worked.

“I have lost 25 pounds, Julie, in her program,” she confided. “You might think about trying it. Nancy is very open about how it will work, and if you can’t abide it or just don’t want this, you’re free to leave at any time and she will stop charging you as of then.”

“Is that all there is to it?” Julianne now inquired. “What happens the next time if you haven’t progressed?”

“I figured you’d want to know that,” Andrea grinned. “Miss Nancy steadily ups the penalty. First, she scolds you for being a very naughty girl, using those precise words. Plus, you always have the other members of your class, about four or five others, present to witness your dressing down.

“She steadily increases the level of discipline,” Andrea then reported. “The next time she will use her hairbrush. After that she will have you bent over the chair and you will feel her strap or her cane. You’ve probably never been caned. It is not a pleasant experience.”

She then lifted her own skirt, turned round, and displayed her bottom as she pulled down her lilac mesh panties. Julianne saw the bright red stripes on her sister-in-law’s bottom.

“Wow,” she exclaimed to Andrea. “That must have really hurt!”

“It does,” Andrea admitted, “and they don’t go away real fast. Charlie saw them one night as I was changing for bed, and chuckled as he said that maybe he should start using the cane on my behind. I quickly turned at him and told him he better not even bring that up again or his ass would find out just how much it hurt.”

Andrea had stopped smiling, and as Julianne pondered what she had heard, trabzon escort added, “And I will tell only you, Julie, since we’re sisters-in-law, that it didn’t ever put me in the mood for sex with my husband, even though I admit that even the thought of being spanked still gets me wet.”

Julianne’s face flushed and she managed to answer, “Andi, since you’ve been so open with me, I’ll let you know that this has made my panties absolutely sopping. And that doesn’t happen all that often these days, alas.”

“I know exactly what you mean, Julie,” Andrea replied. “I usually am hurting after a session with Miss Nancy, but I now go home after the class with a woman I knew slightly before and met at my session. We treat each other’s bottoms in a way that I would be embarrassed to ask Charlie to do, and yes, we sometimes get even closer after that.”

“This has been quite a bit of news to me,” Julianne answered with a smile of sorts.

“You need to let it digest and think about it,” Andrea said. “It has helped me and I don’t even resent it when she tells me that I need to do better when I have actually lost a pound or two since last time. She really makes sure that you rarely get away without some kind of punishment every week.”

Julianne thought even more about what she had heard from Andrea as she drove home. She couldn’t stop recalling a young female teacher she had had in high school who seemed just the type to keep her after class for some physical punishment. Of course, that was no longer allowed by the time Julianne was in school. But she had read about old-time teachers with their rulers, paddles, and canes.

Thinking about this made her wet as it always did. She knew right then that she had to do this. Besides, she thought, this was also something she needed. She had to lose the weight. And, although this took more effort to admit to herself, she needed to be spanked, and more.

So, when she arrived at her home, she sat down, looked at her diary, and telephoned the salon. A pleasant female voice answered and responded brightly when Julianne said she would like to make an appointment for Miss Nancy’s class.

“If you are coming for the first time,” the receptionist, whose name was Linda, advised her, “she likes to see you individually in the morning at 10. You’ll change into exercise gear, so bring your gym bag, and then she’ll go over how the program works. Take my advice and dress plainly, pleasant blouse and skirt, and don’t wear flashy workout clothes. Forget those fancy leggings and stuff. Stick to bringing ordinary workout shorts, a sports bra, a tee, and cotton panties.”

Julianne was surprised at these detailed instructions about how she should dress, but she thanked Linda and made an appointment three days hence.

For hours she was unable to think about anything other than meeting Nancy in person and going across her lap to be spanked. She could not see how she was going to manage getting through the next two days.

Finally, Wednesday’s dawn broke and Julianne got up, made coffee for her husband Martin, and herself, after getting her two children off to school. Martin soon departed for his office and she was getting her gym stuff together, when her cell rang, and she heard Andrea’s voice.

“I gather you’re off to meet Nancy this morning,” her sister-in-law began somewhat abruptly. “I realized you had mentioned that I had referred you to them, so thank you for that.”

“Was that o.k.?” Julianne asked.

“Yes,” Andrea answered. “There’s nothing formal but it does mean that Nancy will take a slightly more positive attitude when she realizes that you are part of a network and might bring others to her. Julianne, get used to becoming an influencer!”

Julianne said with a tremor that she wasn’t sure she wanted to be one of those.

Andrea then in essence repeated what Linda had told Julianne about how to dress and what to bring with her.

“And don’t wear any fancy jewelry,” she advised, “for some reason I think it sets her off.”

Julianne thanked her, said she was getting ready, and promised to get back to her after she returned from the meeting, or session.

“I’ll be anxious to hear how it went,” Andrea replied, “and hope you find it as positive as I have.”

Julianne held off on asking her sister-in-law about what would appear to be her most embarrassing thought: she kept getting wet in her panties every time the thought of Miss Nancy having her across her lap appeared in her mind. After Andrea said good-bye, she went off to the bathroom and changed her undies and placed a pantiliner in the crotch, reminding herself to remove it before she reached the salon. It wouldn’t do to have to explain to the assertive, twenty-something Miss Nancy as to why she was wearing one when it would seem unneeded.

Allowing plenty of time for traffic, she left for her appointment. She arrived fifteen minutes before and she was pleased to meet the receptionist Linda to whom she had spoken on tunalı escort the phone.

“Pleased to meet you, Julianne,” Linda said with an infectious smile, “and I’m glad you’re a few minutes early so you can fill out our form here.” She handed Julianne a form that asked for the usual information about her address and phone and e-mail, but then asked her age; her bust, waist, and hip measurements; her weight and height; and then asked about her medical history: major events, but also when she started her period, if she was in menopause or approaching it, when her last period started and when the next was expected. One more embarrassing question asked if she had had any urinary infections or problems in the past year and if she defecated regularly and without any complications. There then was a short statement to which she was asked to assent by signing: “I understand that this program may involve my being physically punished by the instructor or her aides. I confirm that I am in adequate physical condition to receive any such disciplining.”

Julianne did not spend much time thinking about the implications of this statement she was signing. After all, she knew exactly what it meant.

She signed, filled out the form, and handed it back to Linda. In one sense, this was almost like her first visit to the gynecologist. She started to compare that initial entry of the speculum into her vagina with the prospect of Miss Nancy applying her cane to Julianne’s bottom, but stopped herself.

She had remembered to remove the pantiliner in the car but hoped this wasn’t re-launching the steady flow from her vadge into her cotton panties. She had included two more pairs in her gym bag.

Soon, more women, almost all about her age, appeared in the waiting area. Julianne tried to keep her eyes to herself, but she noticed that they were all about her age, similarly dressed, in simple blouses, skirts, and workout shoes.

Precisely at 10, Linda quietly motioned to Julianne and a pleasant-looking woman sitting near her to follow her to the gym. They stood and walked briskly behind her through some double doors and down a corridor lined by photographs of women in superb shape working out on all kinds of gymnastic equipment.

They were ushered into a large gym that lay behind the two salons in the front of the complex. Then they walked up to a very modern desk that befitted a high-powered female executive. A fine-looking, blondish, young woman stood and greeted them. She was wearing a white, sleeveless blouse and crisp red skirt that was hemmed at just the right length above her knees. Julianne noted too that she was wearing sheer but seamed hose and low but shiny red heels.

“I’m Nancy,” she said entirely unaffectedly. She smiled and added, “I hope you will remember that I prefer to be called Miss Nancy.” She gave no explanation and Julianne had expected none.

She looked at Julianne and said, “I assume you are Julianne.” Turning to the other woman, she said in the same tone, “And that you are Michelle,” Both women nodded and said that that was correct.

“I’ve matched you two as partners here,” Nancy continued. “This means that you will be here together, usually with others, but will try to help each other in maintaining your adherence to the program and in any other way you find to be helpful. When we do exercises that require it, you will spot for each other.”

Julianne remembered when she did that for girls back in school when they were climbing the ropes or mounting the high bar or rings.

“My rules here are simple,” Nancy said and then launched into a sort of prepared talk.

“You will always be on time,” she began. “That means getting here fifteen minutes ahead of class to change into your gym clothes. There are lockers in that room”—she pointed toward the doorless entrance to the locker room— “and please put your clothes neatly inside them. They do not lock because I will trust all of you. Anyone who is so craven as to violate my trust will regret their offense dearly. I want to be able to trust all of you just as I assume you will wish to trust my discretion and competence in this program, even though you are all quite a bit older than I am.”

She sat down behind her desk, the absolute picture of a powerful executive, female version.

“I expect to be obeyed without question here,” she went on. “It should go without saying that I would never endanger you nor abuse your trust. You will do the same for me and your partner and all the women in these classes. Any disobedient or dangerous behavior will be immediately and severely—note that word—punished.

“Now let me explain the goals here,” she said. “We want you to focus on doing the exercises we recommend at home, sometimes do some here, and stick to a recommended diet. It is not precise and gives you plenty of discretion and leeway. But you will be weighed each time you are here, and I will respond appropriately. That means that I will discipline you if tunceli escort I feel you are not progressing adequately toward your goal.

“I don’t expect miracles,” she emphasized. “I know you won’t get into the shape you desire overnight. But I expect compliance and effort on your part. Please tell me when you arrive if you are having your period. I would like you to be able to participate in the physical activities here, all of the physical activities.

“For that reason,” she now said in an even unaccented voice, “I hope that you will use a form of protection then that will permit that. Getting down to the basics, that means you should use tampons or a cup. If for some reason you must rely on pads, I will likely excuse you that day, but I will speak with you privately to discuss that.”

She then went over the information Michelle and I had each entered on the forms we completed earlier. She discussed with each of us what our goal was in terms of weight reduction, seemed to find both our answers acceptable, and then followed up on her statement about periods.

“It seems that you, Julianne, expect your period next week and you, Michelle, the week after,” she declared. It was already strange to have someone, especially a much younger woman, discussing such an intimate matter. She knew it made us uncomfortable.

“I know you don’t like talking about this, but you will have to get used to discussing things like this here,” she said firmly. “I usually will do this with only the two of you, but it could happen with the full class, so be prepared for it.”

She then asked me what kind of protection I would use, and I answered, “I do use tampons but if it is my second day, my heaviest usually, I use a backup maxipad.”

Michelle was then asked the same question and responded that she normally used super-plus tampons but might find she needed a pad if she had to change them very often.

“I will ask you when you come here when you are menstruating what your situation is,” she continued. “Please don’t be shy because I will ask this question of everyone at some time or another. I will then decide on whether you should stay that day or whether your participation should be limited.”

“Are you regular in having your periods?” she went on.

Both of us responded that we were.

Then she asked when we last had a bowel movement and made us describe it. This I found to me the most difficult as I somehow felt shame in describing to her and Michelle just what my movement looked like and how it emerged, easily or with pushing. It seemed just as embarrassing for Michelle, but we both did manage to get through it without breaking up.

Then she shifted gears and went into a bit of a lecture.

“You are both here because you have lost control of yourselves,” she began. “You are overweight and many people you know do see this but won’t tell you, but that’s what they think. I regard proceeding to consume food in an undisciplined way as a form of naughty behavior that you should have left in childhood. But you didn’t. You sneak all kinds of things into your mouth that are bad for you.

‘I’ll give you a chance to tell me it isn’t so,” she said bluntly.

Neither of us decided to take on her offer.

“Good,” she said. “Because you have misbehaved and been naughty, I am going to discipline you today. In future, I expect that this will only be necessary if you clearly don’t stay with the program. That will not be easy, and you will see others punished. I hope you will not be among them, but I suspect you will be, at some point or perhaps more often.

“The punishments will increase if and when you misbehave again,” she now advised. She then told us both to stand facing her at her desk. I truly felt like I was back in the principal’s office, but with a younger, stricter principal with attractive blondish hair and a superb figure.

“Both of you, now lift your skirts up above your waists and make sure they stay up there,” she ordered, crisply.

I never even thought of not doing what she directed us to do. She then stood and walked in front of us. First, she stood in front of me and reached out and pulled my panties right down to my knees. She stepped over and did the same with Michelle’s panties. We both had clearly been advised to wear plain white cotton ones.

I didn’t dare look at Michelle. I couldn’t help wondering if she shaved down front or not. I don’t. For me, it’s au naturel.

Then Miss Nancy walked behind us, sat in a straight chair, and said just two words, “Turn around.”

When we did, she was seated on the chair and with her forefinger, she drew me to her, and I knew she meant for me to place myself across her skirted lap. I did and saw that she had placed a towel across her lap.

“Did she expect one of us to lose control?” I thought. We had not been given a chance to use the toilet. I hoped I could hold out. Right now, I just felt weak in the knees, not in my bladder.

I quickly walked over and positioned myself across her lap. Then she started spanking me. It was strange at first. I hadn’t been spanked since I was nine or ten. This younger woman, younger by two decades, was punishing me with her hand as though I were a far younger woman, perhaps a girl again.

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