Mrs.Walters Finishing School

UNDER CONSTRUCTION, PLEASE CALL BACK OFTEN TO SEE IT DEVELOP, it will change lots as I go along, and revisit pages, a lot of what you read will have dropped straight from the inside of my head to the page, so it won’t be polished, so to speak…

This story is based on the true recorded events of a finishing school in Bristol, England in the late 1800’s.

I have researched the accounts of ‘the Lady With the Birch’ as well as I can. I have narrowed its location down to Oakfield Road, in Clifton, near Bristol. A rather well to do and respected residential district. I have scoured as many Victorian photographs of dwellings in   that typical middle class suburban district as I can find, here is one of Rokeby House.

Lovely isn’t it?

But I do not think that is the house we are looking for. I think this one, is the one I want it to be for our story…

Can you see the little brick arch in the centre at the top? Perfect for a school bell isn’t it? Along with the central gate, it looks more like a finishing school than any other I have found.

(The actual address given for the school was 53 Oakfield Road and an apartment there was recently up for sale, at the end of the story I will show you a photo of it as it is now.)

I say school.

It was not a school as you know them today. It was for girls and young women, many of them over twenty. It taught music and art, as well as all the usual subjects. But it also taught deportment and manners. In other words it taught the Victorian young lady how to behave. In particular a certain type of young lady.

Naughty girls and young women to be accurate.

Or brats, as we would call them today, the type of girl who considers many people who try to help her become an adult, stupid. She answers back, she says ‘you are wrong… ACTUALLY.” With emphasis on the words she feels make her sound important and clever. Usually spoilt, and spared the rod. Girls who become hysterical easily, stamping their feet, making a fuss over nothing. With weak parents or Uncles etc, who do nothing but let it proceed unabashed.

The house where the school was is up for sale, and I am driving down today, stopping overnight, and looking around the place tomorrow. Would you like to come? We can talk about spanking and bottoms all day long!

We have a lovely journey and lodge at ‘The Great Western Hotel’, a beautiful, elegant old railway establishment. I love steam trains, that is why I decided to stay  there, Mrs Walters must have passed by on a tram or trolley bus many times.

We sat up late drinking and talking of corner time, implements, bottoms, bloomers, school knickers, and our spanking exploits etc. Did you come to my room? Maybe…but we will keep that secret.

Excitedly we eat breakfast, a full English. We remark how fried tomatoes look like a well paddled bottom with their dark, almost burnt rings on their skin. We check out of the hotel, and jump in my old car, go to pick the keys up from the Estate Agent as I have arranged, and drive to the area with a lady from their office. Both of us a little worried that it will look very modern and not at all how we hope, but what a lovely surprise greets us, it is almost like going back in time

I take charge of the exploration, I am a little like that I’m afraid, but you seem happy to let me be the leader of the expedition. Funny that, most people do.

We are alone, the house is completely empty, the young woman who has accompanied us is happy to stay in the car, looking at her phone messages and the like, no doubt. She has told us to take our time, and just ask if we need anything. Other than coming to check everything is locked when we depart, she is happy to leave us to it for as long as we like.

She has complied to my earlier request to be left alone, happily. I am pleased, she would not have understood the need for silent contemplation.

Let’s walk through that gate, up the short, pretty garden path, to the front door. To the left is what was probably the parlour of Mrs Walters, the proprietor. To the right of the tiled entrance hallway, next to the wall mounted mahogany coat and umbrella stand, is the door to what must have been her study. Let’s peep in, quietly. Just think, her coat has probably hung on the chapel style hat pegs times aplenty.

I ask you to let your imagination work. “Let’s drift back in time. There might be ghosts here, maybe we will hear distant cries of young women being birched…who knows?”

You take a step closer to me, your eyes wide, looking around into the shadows.

“Shhhhhh, don’t make a sound, can you see her?” There, in the bay window is sat the lady in question. A tall woman, sat straight, dipping her pen in the inkwell, let’s look to see what she is writing.

We look over her right shoulder, her pen is busily scratching away. It is such an evocative place that we can almost see an aspidistra, and lots of pale pink bilberry glassware, the smell of beeswax and coal smoke fill the air. A grandfather clock ticks heavily, as if counting the beat to a birching.

She is penning two advertisements, it seems three girls have successfully left and she has spaces.

What you are about to read are two real adverts out of the many she put in the local newspapers. I will verify everything you read at the end of this story, by showing you copies of actual newspapers.

On the 5th October 1889 this advert appeared in The Daily Telegraph.

‘Bad Temper, Hysteria, Idleness etc. Cured by strict discipline and careful training. Three girls received’

…it seems a strange way of saying it, but I assume it means she will receive three more girls. I believe it was a little like a Victorian version of Twitter, an advert was only allowed so many characters.

She gave an address to reply to, that of Mrs.Clapp. Of St Johns Wood, Bristol. This was a company who made birches. I have no idea why the applications did not go straight to number 53. I summise that they were close friends and associates.

A few days later this advert appeared in The Times.

‘Intractible girls trained and educated. Excellent References.’ It also advertised her papers for sale at a shilling each. They covered various subjects such as; Hints on Management of Children,  and The Rod.

Her own address given this time.

Now let our minds continue as before… A girl, Lucy is almost dragged to the door. Her parents have had enough, they have answered the advert and have been interviewed. They deem themselves lucky to have their twenty year old daughter accepted. Lucy thinks otherwise of course.


The girl is unceremoniously taken by the hand and led inside, with her solitary bag. “It doesn’t do to make a fuss Mrs Hastings, it only unsettles the girls. You can visit next Sunday, you will see how she has settled in then, and be able to take tea with her…goodbye.”

The dark oak, stained glass door shuts firmly, the shiny brass knocker rattles three times before it settles. Mrs Hastings looks at the door and up to the upstairs windows, where three girls look down and smile politely. Sniffing back her tears, she walks away.

“Rosealee! Come and take Lucy’s bag up to your room. There’s a good girl.” Says the crisply spoken Mrs Walters, who turns to look at the bewildered Lucy. “Follow me!”

Lucy walks nervously behind the lean frame of Mrs Walters, into the parlour, and sits down.

“Don’t you dare sit down before me girl! Have you no manners at all? Stand up! Stand up this instance you silly girl!”

Lucy stares defiantly, without moving.

A sinister smile spreads across the face of Mrs Walters, as she reaches over for a bell, and rings it.


A young woman walks in, trim of figure, and a handsome disposition. Lucy was to find out that this was Tamara, the daughter of Mrs Walters, who taught Music and Art. “Tamara dear, would you fetch Lucy’s welcoming present please?”

Tamara curtseyed, turned and left.

Lucy smiled, the same willful smile she gave mother, when she won another round of ‘the contest’. “A present? This is going to be easy!” Thought the girl.

Tamara returned with two boxes, a small delicate one, and a large plain cardboard one. The former was wrapped in pretty paper, the latter was just the well made box, with the name CLAPPER stamped on the side.

“There you are dear, a welcoming present, something to keep you nice and warm.” Said Mrs Walters as she took the big box and put it on Lucy’s lap. “But open this first.” She said passing the inviting small box.

Lucy sat looking positively pleased, and grinned at Mrs Walters, tearing open the pretty paper, not bothering to read the label. The paper fell to the floor.

Tamara looked to her mother, who stared back, with her face flushed. Dropping paper on purpose was a very big NO.

Lucy held up a bundle of ribbons, all delicately embroidered with her name and flowers, bright yellow daffodils. She discarded them, letting a few slip to the floor as she reached eagerly for the big box. Within seconds the lid was removed, to reveal a brand new, exquisite birch, it smelt of the fresh countryside.

Lucy looked at Mrs Walters, she had never seen one before. “What am I supposed to do with this?” She asked mockingly, frowning at the birch as if it was a silly little toy, like a doll, meant for young children.

Mrs Walters stood, and Tamara went to stand behind Lucy. “Well, first of all, you take a ribbon, and tie it in a bow, just here.” Instructed Mrs Walters in a kind soft voice.

Lucy did so, with an annoyed ‘tut’ gently and deftly. “Now what?”  She asked with a bored look to the sky.

In a very matter of fact way Mrs Walters told her. “You take your dress off, bend over the chaise lounge, and take a beating with it dear!”

Lucy’s face turned ashen.


Unusually for Lucy, she did not hesitate. She had never been ordered to do such a thing, and had never seen such a strong determined figure telling her to do as she said.


Tamara, like some kind of smiling assassin took the wrists of the girl, saying sweetly “it is for your own good”

And there she was only fifty minutes into her year at the school, bottom up, bloomers open at the back, feeling six good hard swats of the birch on her bare rump.


“That is the only time you will get just six young lady, I never sentence a girl to less than twelve. It may be reduced to ten if you take it well, make a huge fuss and it will have more added and quite possibly start all over again! I will not tell you again! Rosalee! In here now!”

The girl came marching in, straight and quiet.

“Show Lucy to your room. This is your room mate, learn well from her. If you get punished in your room, she gets the same. If she gets punished in your room, you get the same. Off you go, tea is in one hour. Do not be late!”

Lucy stood rubbing her bottom, tears filling her eyes. “Yes Mrs.Walters.”

The two girls left.









The New Member of Staff



There had been a meeting of the ‘Board of Governors’ at Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls. It unaminously decided that a room was needed to be fitted out solely for discipline, and a dedicated member of staff was urgently required to run it. A no nonsense expert in the art of corporal punishment. Interviews were held over the summer holidays, and we had lots of applicants, I feel we made an excellent choice in hiring a young lady named Miss Tamara Kenworthy.

And so it was that on the first day of term, that if you walked down the corridor to the reception.

…and looked at the staff notice board, you would see a new photo had been added, just below the photos of Head and Deputy Head, in a line of senior staff, the Heads of Department.

You would see this photograph of Miss Kenworthy, the ‘Head of Discipline’.

Quite an innocent looking photo of an attractive young woman approaching her prime. Tamara looked charming, and gentle.

There were a crowd of girls looking and chattering about  the photo, when all together they stopped, as Miss Kenworthy clip clopped her way to them in her red high heels and black business suit. They parted like the Red Sea as she walked to the notice board and unlocked it. She took the photo (shown above) out, and replaced it with this one of her holding a black, harsh looking punishment stick. Not a cane, but something altogether more sinister.

I was watching from the balcony which runs around the reception quadrangle, looking down. I was stood outside my office, the Headmaster’s Office. I nodded satisfactorily at her first dramatic move in ‘the Game of Discipline’ she had begun. We had chosen well.

The new photograph was better and conveyed the correct image, that of a no nonsense, strict disciplinarian, who knew how to wield a cane, a tawse and a plimsol.

She clip clopped her way back to whence she came, to a corridor, that housed her ‘Room of Discipline’, with its new sign ‘REPORT ROOM’. Because most girls who visited it would be ‘on report’.  A room that now had two chairs outside, and a stack of six more inside,  in case they were needed on a special occassion. On the right hand side of the door was a small stool, the humiliation stool, which would have to be polished by every girl who stood on it.

That little row of seats, and the stool had picked up a new name from the clever, witty, but very naughty girls of this Correctional Institute. From this day on it was referred to as…’Death Row’. In the first week of its existence some unknown girl stuck a piece of paper on the door, with a notice scrawled on, straight  from  Dante’s Inferno, ‘Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.’

Tamara took it off and had it framed, and kept it at her home, a keepsake she would value for ever, along with many others.

I asked her to come and see me, after her appointment, this was about a month ago. I gave her a budget to spend and a list of suppliers. She spent her time up until today, the day of the photo, setting up her room. I gave her complete freedom, it was her domain. She put desks in, for girls who had lines or essays to write, and an array of implements and apparatus.

Her first act was to go to one of our trusted suppliers, which was in a town just a few miles away. Here she handled the canes to get a feel for them and ordered two dozen of various lengths and diameter. Over the years to come she would make great friends with a Miss Alexander, who as you can see here, made excellent canes.

Slowly but surely her equipment came, including a thick, hard backed, leather bound punishment book.

Much of her time was spent alone, it was after all the summer holidays and the teaching staff were on holiday, she arranged the room to suit her needs.

All alone with the school quiet, she inspected her corporal punishment  equipment

The flexibility of the canes were perfect, and she began to have thoughts of making them wrap around the curves of  naked girl’s buttocks.

The room smelled beautiful, it had a new carpet and the wood had been freshly bees waxed by the caretaker. The radiators ticked, because the same caretaker had sent a memo to her saying  he needed to test the heating system. It was a rainy day, and for summer quite cool. The noise of the rain rattling on the window pains made her feel glad to be cosily settled in her room. She locked the door, and slowly walked around caressing the desks. She imagined the cool shock of the wood on a naked schoolgirls belly as she was draped over, bare bottom presented, knickers around her ankles.

She loved everything about spanking.

The thoughts developed into a little fantasy, a masturbation fantasy. She began to breathe deeply as she pushed her groin to the edge of the desk, rhythmically.

She straightened and her hands ran up her hips, gripping the hem of her skirt.

To reveal her delightful, see through, black knickers.

Which she pulled down. The cool air caressed her bottom.

She pulled her cheeks apart, and the cool air entered the hole of her bottom and made her take a sharp intake of breath as she realized how wet she was.

She christened her room of discipline and shame by self spanking her beautifully curved bottom. As she hoped, the room had near perfect acoustics. The crisp sound of the smacks filled the air. She closed her eyes, and her mind went back to her own school spankings. She recalled how she hoped that one day she would be delivering rattan to a bare bottom as the teacher was delivering it to hers.

And now, here she was, being paid to spank, and cane.

She saw herself, in school uniform, yet at the age she was now. In her mind she was an adult schoolgirl, in black and white, like the images she searches for on-line to aid her masturbation. The knickers she pulled down were not hers, they were her old large white school knickers.

She spoke to herself…”Bare your bottom for a spanking you naughty girl!”

She could see her reflection in the window and looked at herself, as she made a mental note to open the blinds to humiliate a girl. Nobody was around to see today, so she continued to look into her reflected eyes. “Present your bottom Tamara!”

Then she began to spank herself harder…

And harder…

And faster and faster…

Then she leaned back and fingered wet slit to orgasm.

She came hard and loud, not holding back, safe and sound in the knowledge that she was perfectly safe to do as she wished in her room…her beautiful room of pain and punishment.

The next few days saw her trying out various apparatus to punish the girls over. It also saw her to go to a local shopping mall, to buy a school uniform, like in her masturbation fantasy. She wanted to know how it felt, and how high gym-slips would ride up, and, she thought naughtily, behind her locked door she could dress up whenever she liked, to fulfill her private schoolgirl fantasies.

And so it was that Miss Kenworthy began to test out her equipment, with her hair in a pony tail like she wore at school, and a gym slip (a little short, but she loved it, and most girls at the school wore short ones anyway. She wanted to look like the girls she punished.)

She put two of the chairs from her stack back to back, which was how pupils at Winchester School were punished, and to this day the position is called the Winchester Position.

She stood before them, imagining how they would feel when she ordered them to kneel and bend, ‘knees and palms must remain on the chairs at all times’ she said out loud as she climbed on.

“Hmmmm, I like it but the bottom should be forced up more, maybe the elbows should touch.” So she tried that.

“Present your bottom higher girl!” She said to herself sternly, and giggled.

“Oh that is much better.”

She had been shopping in all sorts of places and could not resist a little wooden rocking horse. “This will humiliate the older ones when I tell them to get on it and rock, like a little girl, as I crop their naughty bottoms!”

She put the chairs away, and climbed upon the little horse, which she decided to call ‘Neddy the Punishment Pony’.

She placed her palms and toes on the base and rocked. “I think this could work very well indeed.” She said to herself. “Once rocking I could pick up the rhythm, whack their bottoms as they get to the rear end of the rocking and then WHACK! Send them forward again! Oooooh imagine one of those haughty ‘no it all’ types on this, before a group of other girls!”

She had mounted a real saddle on the little horse and as she rocked back and forth it excited her, she pressed down hard and galloped to orgasm. “I can see some submissive types rather likening this!” She gasped.

Also, as she moved, she discovered that her knickers had caught on the saddle. “Oh I say! What a lucky accident! I will use that to hold their knickers down.”

She galloped to a second orgasm, and was so wet that as she slowly rocked to a standstill, the draught created by the movement, blew cool on her sopping wet cunt… “Oooooh, that’s nice!” As she climbed off her love juice stuck slightly, and she looked at it stretching between the saddle and her swollen labia.

Miss Kenworthy decided not to wipe it off, in fact she decided there and then never to wipe any off. How satisfying it would be to rub her cunt to orgasm now and then on a saddle, stained with the pussy juice of young virgins!

Tamara watched it run in a trickle and dry.

The next thing she tried was something her Grandma had left her. An old towel/clothes airing rack. She liked a girl to have something to grip.

“Oh my! I think this will present the bottom well for a caning!” She bent over and gripped a rail.

“Oh yes Tamara, there will be a few wetting their knickers before their panties are yanked down on this!”

She told herself to get on tip toe.

“Oh my word, what a position, ooooh just imagine, waiting for that first whack, trembling, and your bum hole twitching away in fear!” She thought.

“Present your naughty bottom for twelve of the very, very best young lady!” She said to herself.

She tensed the muscles around her anus to make it twitch as if in fear. “Oh I hope I get some doing this!”

Then she pulled out a piano stool which she thought would be perfect for the kiss of a tawse. She had two, one broad supple one, and one thick, inflexible strap. “God I am going to make some of you squeal and beg for mercy!”

“Oh wow! If they try to grip their scorching cheek they’ll drop over! Same if they try to resist a blow. Ohhhhh Miss Kenworthy! You could bring blistters to a fine upturned rump on here!”

Her bottom had never been presented so well, she could feel the lips on her pussy open, she was so stretched!

Over the next days she tried out most of her apparatus, and also various places in the room to simply bend over, so she could find the place to stand for maximum swing.

She loved just bending over, she excited herself and her quivering quim time and time again, often giving herself a spanking and blushing cheeks.

The first day of term was approaching, she was getting excited, in more ways than one.

Something, alluded her. She needed the ultimate way of shaming and humiliating a girl. It was the Friday before the new term when she found it, a large mirror. To be known as ‘The Mirror of Shame’, she would punish girls before it so they could see themselves ‘get it’, and afterwards stand before it as she wrote a record of their punishment in her book of shame, the punishment record of ‘The Report Room’.

She placed it next to her store room, a simplistic minimalist place for the ultimate punishment and shame.

The first day of term arrived, she got in early, dressed in her favorite red and black.

Everything was in place, she caressed her implements.

She kissed her crop, for ‘good look’ and strode to assembly. On the way she stopped at the notice board and put a different photo in. She saw Mr.Jones the Headmaster looking down from the balcony outside his office, and smiled. He smiled back and nodded satisfaction.

Within days a steady stream of naughty bottoms found their way to her ‘Report Room’ to be dealt with. She was both surprised and excited at how quickly her punishment book was filling up.

By the end of the first week she was on the third page, as girl after girl came nervously to her door with a report card, and sat on the two chairs outside.

To be punished…

Some harshly, like Charlotte, on the left here, and her friend Sarah. Miss Kenworthy gave them both a real thrashing, Charlotte in particular making a huge fuss, screaming ‘I’m sorry Miss Kenworthy! Owwwwww please stop Miss Kenworthy, no more, please please!” But Tamara thrashed her bottom as she wriggled, as she did with them all, begging or not.

Tamara was in punishment heaven, bottom after bottom came through the door, to be bent over in any way she wished, to be punished by whatever implement she liked. How many girls she deterred she never would know, but one thing for certain, was that like all the other schools, most girls did not learn. The queue for punishment just kept the same, day after glorious day.

The two girls we saw just now, had to come back three days later, and again no mercy was shown, no matter how much they screamed and begged Miss Kenworthy to stop caning them on their already tender bottoms. This was her way, if they needed to be punished, they were punished… Simple!

The girls just kept coming…

Sometimes groups of them came, all bent over in a row.  To have their buttocks reddened!

Danielle here was a frequent visitor and spent a lot of time facing the wall, a projection screen, or a corner.

Or over a stool.

Girls soon learned toto fear Miss Kenworthy, and being told they were being put on report,  meant something painful.

Yet it has to be remembered that these girls were at the extreme end of naughtiness, they were the wayward girls of Saint Helena High School, they were sent here because other schools could not cope with them. So all 878 of them, were naughty to the core…cheeky and defiant, rude and full of bratty behavior. Many were petty criminals, they were here to be sorted, and educated. Miss Tamara Kenworthy was at the ‘sorted’ end, paid to punish their naughty bottoms, in a much more severe way than main stream schools.

Her first week came to a satisfactory end. She loved it here!

And now some specific girls…see part two


The Hockey Team’s New Captain

cast….Kate, Samantha, Charlene, Raven.


The Hockey Team at Saint Helena High School had done reasonably well over the last few seasons, making steady progress both in the ‘Sir Hansi Cup’ and the ‘Inter Schools Girls Hockey League’.

This last season, had been the best for over ten years, having reached the semi-finals of the cup, and finishing fourth out of sixteen teams in the league.

Most of the recent run of good form and the success of the last season had been attributed to the skills of the new Gym Mistress, a strict, very athletic German woman, Frau Margarethe Bauer. Known to the girls as ‘Thrasher  Gretchen’, (or simply ‘Gretchen’). Due to her liberal use of corporal punishment.

Here she is keeping order in one of her ‘Sports Theory’ Classes.

In the reserve side last year, a girl called Charlene had really impressed Frau Bauer, and with the start of pre- season training almost upon them, she posted this seasons first team squad. It included Charlene, an innocent polite girl, two years younger than the next youngest in the squad.

When she came to school the next day, she had no idea of the accolades she would receive from her friends.

When she entered the classroom a huge cheer surprised her, suddenly she was the girl everyone wanted to know.

It was the talk of the school, but when the news reached two other girls, Samantha and Kate they were not pleased at all, they were jealous of the sudden rise in popularity of whom they now saw as their main rival.

They went to  the first pre-season training at lunch time, and it was quite obvious that Charlene was extremely talented. It was also obvious that she had a serene quality to her, a sort of trusting charm. Kate looked to Samantha and remarked, “Look at her, I bet she believes everything anyone tells her, she looks so young and innocent! I don’t like her, look how everyone is almost falling over themselves to talk to her, God, isn’t she wonderful! We must get to know her and be her best friends… I THINK NOT!”

They watched her in the classroom after the training, she was very particular about her hockey stick, cleaning it and smearing it with linseed oil, like a cricket bat.

They grew even more jealous at the way she looked in her training kit, her shorts were very short, and red top quite skimpy. Things were relaxed in training, and so long as a red top was worn everyone was happy.

Samantha scowled, she took an instant dislike to Charlene, and her charm, her talent, and her ability to make friends and, and, and… The list was growing.

Charlene’s name kept cropping up all day long, and the two jealous, spiteful schoolgirls Samantha and Kate began to scheme.

…and plan

They began to make themselves noticed in the background of her life, giggling and pointing at her. Charlene began to feel worried, they looked two formidable, older, frightening girls.

Like all bullies, once they sense fear in their prey, they became crueler and bolder.

Samantha looked to the sky as a prefect walked by and said ‘Well done Charlene! Everyone thinks you’ll win us the ‘Sir Hansi Cup’ this year!”

Modestly and blushing slightly Charlene said that she would try her best for the team and why stop at the cup? “Let’s go for the double!” She shouted back to the prefect.

Samantha pretended to throw up.

The next few weeks saw Kate’s popularity grow, and training was going very well, so well that Charlene and Samantha’s jealousy and contempt rapidly grew. It would be true to say that it was turning into some sort of hate, and they could be soon described as her tormentors, or bullies. And not just with Kate, they were popular and threatened other girls if they were seen with Kate.

Things were growing out of proportion in their minds, all Kate had done was play well, be selected, and be modest of her talents.

Frau Beauer had introduced tactical sports lessons, she called them her ‘Theory of Sport’ lessons. Hockey figured predominantly, but so too did netball, football, athletics and so on.

She had used Charlene, dressed in her training kit, to demonstrate various skills to the class, all except two were avid Charlene fans. Samantha and Kate pushed their way to the desk behind her, and began teasing her. Calling her ‘Gretchen’s Special Little Pet’.

Charlene tried to ignore them, but she had never been bullied or not liked by and school ‘friends’ before and it upset her. She was naturally popular, this was new to her.

They began to pull her hair, and told her she should shower more, because of the bad smell. They were horrid to her.

Gretchen was no fool, and had an idea of what was going on, a couple of times she had turned quickly, to see Kate and Samantha doing something. There was one thing she hated more than anything else in school life, and that was bullying.

As the first match approached, Frau Bauer noticed a dip in form, and arranged an interview with Charlene.

However, Charlene just said she had been under the weather but feeling better, but Frau Bauer decided to keep a close watch, and soon it was obvious as to what was happening. She decided that it might be best just to keep an eye on things, with luck this could be a situation the rest of the team sorted, and that would be good for team building and morale.

As the days went by, Charlene became more resilient,  she began concentrating on school work, and hockey whilst avoiding Samantha and Kate. She had plenty of friends her own age when in class or about school, and the team loved her. They had seen the nastiness and rallied around her.

So much so, that the two bullies began to feel lonely and excluded. Their hate grew.

The two bullies hatched a plan, and on the day the team sheet was posted for the first match, they found Charlene and sat with her, pretending to be friends. Even apologizing for being nasty and horrid.

Charlene thought that they were genuine, and felt it must be her good play in practice that had won them around. They told her of an old tradition… that when you played in the team for the first time, you bared your bottom for the coach, self spanked it and then asked her to spank it for you. An initiation ceremony of sorts. She was told to say nothing, and that it was a closely guarded hockey team secret. Every girl had done it, and every girl had kept the secret.

“Really? Is that true?”

“Of course!” Said the bullies, very convincingly.

Charlene was engrossed, “Tell me more!”

Charlene being younger and gullible believed them and swore to keep the secret. She found it really funny, and laughed with her new friends.

But Frau Bauer was watching. ‘Hmmm, what are those two nasty pieces of work up to?’ She had never really taken to these two girls, there was a certain degree of nastiness to them. She was pretty sure that the smiles and friendliness were false, but because Charlene was happy, she decided to keep the same tactics, of watch and observe.

Frau Baeur soon found out what precisely had been planned by the two girls when she walked in to the changing room toilets at the end of the day.

The two bullies had put an out of order sign on a toilet cubicle door and hid inside. They were listening, stifling giggles  as Charlene got into a position to spank her own bottom, thinking she was alone.

They could hardly believe their plan was working so well. How silly they would make her feel when they told the whole class!

They heard Charlene run back to the door and excitedly say to herself, quite loudly, ‘Oh she’s coming!’ She unzipped her shorts and pulled them down, with her knickers, to start spanking her bottom!

The smacks were loud, and the two girls struggled to keep from laughing!

Charlene began spanking furiously as she looked in the mirror to the door.

Thrasher Gretchen did enter, and was greeted by a furiously self spanking Charlene!

“Thank you for picking me Miss, please spank my bottom! I know all about the initiation ceremony!”


Underneath the door of the cubicle Frau Baeur saw two pair of feet, and guessed what was happening, and had a very good idea to whom the feet belonged.

She played along and did indeed give Charlene a spanking, but only a light one, but nonetheless a spanking, after all, she was self spanking in the public toilets!

Charlene left happily, rubbing her bottom.

Frau Beauer had another look under the door, and was certain who it was. She let them revel in their glory, but she was hatching a plan in her mind.

She left too, but was determined to get the two bullies, and teach them a harsh lesson. In her own country when she was a young girl, she heard a story,  a sort of ‘hockey team urban legend’,  about a team near Frankfurt, that also played in bright red.

It transpired that whenever a girl scored their first goal, they dyed their pubic hair red  and showed it off to the team. She had an article on it somewhere and photocopied it. She went back to her classroom.

The two bullies came out of the toilet cubicle triumphant and laughing.

“I can’t believe it actually happened, I can’t wait to tell everyone and see the stupid bitch cry!” Said Kate.

“Yes I know! I can hardly wait too!”

Upstairs in her classroom Frau Beaur was busy.

She wrote a little note, as if from another jealous team mate… ‘I loved what you did to Charlene, I was in the toilets too and heard it all happen, I  heard her spank herself, (brilliant idea!) and then get spanked by Thrasher, why not try this next! I saw you both leave, so I know it was you, but don’t worry, your secret is safe!’

She pushed the note through the locker of Samantha, and waited.

When the two bullies found the note, they were thrilled, who was this mystery fan? Who was it who thought the same as they did?

They read the note eagerly.

Continuing with their false friendship with Charlene, they decided to let everyone know about the spanking, not now …but after they had got her to do the ideas from the note.

An upsurge in her form was noted, Charlene felt accepted by the whole team now and was raring to go. They thought it would be wonderful to plant a huge worry in her mind (the idea from the letter) and spoil it all, then on top of that tell everyone about the spanking incident. It would destroy her!

The day of the first league match was approaching, and the two spiteful bullies told Charlene of another tradition, that of colouring the pubic hair red, like the team colors, after  a girl scoring the first league goal of her career.

This upset Charlene, because she hardly had any pubic hair yet. But, not wanting to spoil her new relationships with everyone, she laughed and said yes she would do it.

Two nights before her first league game Charlene could not sleep with the worry of her possible humiliation, so decided that next day she would go and tell Frau Beaur of her worry about it, and she told Frau Bauer of her late pubescent development, and how she feared the second initiation if she did indeed score.

This  annoyed Thrasher Gretchen, and proved what she suspected, they would only know this idea by reading the note, so she told Charlene that it was totally untrue, and told her not to say anything to anyone, adding that the self spanking was also a joke.

Charlene confirmed it was the two girls she suspected and told Frau Baeur of the bullying.

So together they hatched a plan to teach the girls a lesson, Charlene did not realise at the time, that it was to be a bare bottom painful one.

Charlene played the game of her life on her league debut scoring a sensational hat trick in an 8:2 victory, and as instructed by Gretchen, she asked the bullies to meet her back in the changing rooms after school, to help her dye her pubic hair red! The girl and the teacher had hatched a cunning plan, this is how it unfolded

Thrasher Gretchen hid in a toilet cubicle. With a very flexible whippy cane!

Charlene waited with a bottle of red hair dye.

Then in came Samantha and Kate.

“Well done, on the goals, have you got the dye?” Said Samantha.

“Yes.” Replied Charlene meekly.

Thrasher listened to every horrid word that followed, her caning arm twitching in anticipation!

“Yes she has, the stupid bitch! God you think you are soooo special don’t you?” Shouted Kate. “Hold her Samantha, let’s  get her knickers off and give her a red pussy, all the other girls are going to laugh so much tomorrow when we make you show them before us all. Did you really think it was a tradition, you stupid little girl, and did you really think we wanted to be friends with a girl like you? Then we are going to tell them all about your spanking!!”

“I don’t think you will actually!”

“Neither do I!!!” Came a very strict voice from the toilet as the door lock clicked open.

The girls looked horrified as Thrasher spoke from behind the door!

The door burst open, and out of the cubicle strode Frau Baeur with her cane. It was swaying in a very threatening manner.

“Got you!!!” Shouted Thrasher, pointing the menacing yellow rattan at them.

“You horrid girls, I hate bullying in all its forms, you spiteful jealous silly little girls! I am going to teach you both a lesson you will never forget!

The two girls stood in shock, they could hear Charlene laughing mockingly, as she whispered. “You two are going to get it so hard!”

“Let’s get you two up to my classroom, come on, get up those stairs!”

Charlene went before them, laughing and taunting them. Revenge was very sweet indeed.

The two bullies stumbled upstairs in shock, their plans, like their knickers would be soon, were crashing around their ankles. They hated Charlene’s look of glee, but knew there was nothing they could do. Like their trembling bottoms would be soon, they were well beaten!

The two forlorn bullies followed Charlene to Thrasher’s room, she was cheerful and upbeat. “Follow me you naughty bullies, it’s time to pay isn’t it Frau Beauer?

“Yes!” Replied Thrasher, will very little emotion showing in her face. Then she said to the two bullies..” Do as your Captain tells you, and call her that from now on! Yes Charlene, you are to be my new Captain!”

What a day this was turning out to be for Charlene. Gleefully she opened the door, “Follow me girls!”

“Both of you call her Captain from now on! I expect Yes Captain, No Captain at all times! Clear?”

Both girls reluctantly agreed.

“Yes Captain.”

“Yes Captain.”

Charlene loved it. “Good girls! You must show your superior respect; at all times.”

The  hackles on both girls rose, their teeth gritted, but once again both girls replied…”Yes Captain.” “Yes Captain.”

“That’s right Charlene, show them who is boss. Now then my dear, please go and stand in the corner by the little filing cabinet if you would.” Smiled Thrasher. Then her expression changed as she shouted loudly, “YOU TWO! STAND AT THE FRONT, SIDE BY SIDE, FACE ME, YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE!”

The two girls knew instinctively that their sentence was about to be passed, and although they near enough knew already, it was still a shock to them, and delight to Charlene when they heard it in full.

“I hate bullying and you two are the nastiest, most spiteful, peevish specimens I have ever had the misfortune to come across. You are the two most jealous girls I have met, you silly, naughty girls. I am going to thrash you both with this cane on the bare buttocks, expect no mercy.”

Both the girls gasped.

“But before that, your victim is going to have the pleasure of revenge!”

The eyes of the girls met, two pairs of shocked tearful worried ones met the delighted ones of Charlene.

“Charlene is going to spank you both as hard and long as she likes on the bare. But first she is going to dye your pubic hair red! So strip naked the pair of you! YES, NAKED, YOU ARE TO BE SPANKED AND CANED NAKED TOO!”

Charlene could not conceal her excitement, “Ohhhhh goody, thank you so much Miss Beauer!”

The two girls blushed, and cringed. Then began to undress, resigned to their fate.

Charlene’s confidence grew and grew, “Come on you naughty girls, don’t dawdle, get naked!”

Samantha looked over to her with new respect, Kate too began to feel differently about her new authoritan ways and did as she was told. Both girls saying ‘yes Captain’ … ‘yes Captain’

“Do you really mean it Miss? Naked?”


Charlene clapped her hands and said “Yessss!”

So the girls stripped naked, ashamed and humiliated.

Thrasher Gretchen flexed her cane, “Right you two, time for red pubic hair! Then a bottom to match!”

“By now, I suppose you realize the note about the red pubic hair was from me! You have walked into a trap!” Announced Thrasher. “Now let’s see what two red bushes look like, get to work Charlene, make them bright! And when you have done, take some photos, send a set to me, then if ever these two scamps try anything like this again, we can put them on social media!”

Charlene thought that a most splendid idea and got to Colour the girl’s bushes.

Obviously the two bullies were mortally embarrassed, and Charlene made the most of the experience, giggling and making comments. “I almost do want you to bully me again, so I can send my pictures out!”


“I must say girls, they look rather cute, would you like to borrow my training top? It would be a good match.”

There was no answer, so Thrasher told them not to be rude and reply.

“Thank you Captain, it would be a lovely match.” ….”Oh what a lovely thing to do, offering us your top, thank you Captain.”

“Oh what polite girls you are!” Giggled Charlene. “But still very naughty little girls, who need their bare bottoms spanking hard, don’t they Miss.”

Gretchen smiled, and nodded. “Oh most definitely, and then a good hard caning!”

The two girls shivered, and began to tremble in fear. Charlene watched their muscles and nerves twitch and smiled nastily at them, just as they had done to her.

“Smile for me girls, don’t look so glum!”

How the bullies hated her, but we’re trapped completely, and could do nothing but comply.

“Yes Captain.” Beamed Kate.

“Yes Captain.” Smiled Samantha.

Thrasher changed the atmosphere with her commanding voice, “Right! Let’s get on with your punishment!”

Charlene went back to where she was stood before, in the corner and surveyed the scene, she decided that having them bent over a stool would be nice. “Samantha, place that stool there for me!”

“In front of Frau Beauer.”

“Yes Captain.” Said Samantha meekly, and tearfully.

Charlene waited until it was in place, then walked to it. “Now who shall I spank first? I think you Kate. Can you recall how horrid you have been to me? Well, you naughty girl, it is time to pay!”

She walked to the stool…”Come here and bend over!”


Kate began to whimper and wring her hands, but on realizing there was absolutely no escape, she succumbed to her fate.

Charlene delivered a sharp crisp fast spanking to the buttocks of her nemesis, and loved it!

Kate squealed and writhed as the smacks grew harder, Samantha stared at what was happening in disbelief. Here she was, naked, about to be spanked before a teacher by another schoolgirl.

Kate cried, it hurt, a lot. But the humiliation was almost as bad. It was then Samantha’s turn.

Over the same stool she went. Charlene knew she was the leader and smacked as hard and as fast as she could. Samantha squealed and bucked about as smack after smack reddened her buttocks.

Thrasher looked on with approval and advice. “That’s it Charlene, enjoy it, humiliate her like she did you! See her naked before her Captain, kicking and squealing like a little girl! Ha haaa, make her pay, vary the cheeks, do four one one, in the same spot, do the sit spot, that is where the bottom sits, yes that’s it, harder, faster!”

Kate knew that they were in here getting spanked because of Samantha, and smiled at her plight. She got it bad, very bad. Charlene was exhausted and her palms hurt. “I will have to stop, or use something Miss Beauer, my hands hurt!”

“That’s enough! I will take over now! You evil, spiteful girls, I am going to teach you both a lesson you will not forget. I am giving you both eighteen strokes of the cane!”

Charlene was delighted with the news, and both the bullies reeled in shock, speechless.

Thrasher gave them such a telling off, she screamed at them, and the girls quivered in fear.

Charlene looked from one to the other, rejoicing in their pale faces and trembling lips.

What a joy it was to see the bullies squirm!

Charlene laughed in their faces “Oh you are going to get it now you bitches, I am going to love this!”

How the two bullies hated every second!

They were defeated! The worst was about to happen, Thrasher looked mean, angry, strong and very fit!

Revenge was about to be dealt to four already sore cheeks, they knew this was going to be horrible, humiliating and very very painful, and before them stood the victor, Charlene, laughing at their terror and anguish.

It could not be worse, their knees were literally knocking, they wanted to wee or worse. How on earth were they going to get through this?

“Right then Kate, you first. Watch this in fear Samantha, you are getting it the hardest. I know your ways, you spiteful coward. You are a bully! A cruel heartless bully. Both of you are! If this ever happens again it will be thirty six each before the whole school. Present your bottom young lady!”

The thrashing was hard, fast and  brutal. Kate squealed, jumped and hopped about as Charlene delighted in her mocking her.

Revenge was sweet. The howls of despair, the beseeching looks, the cracks of the cane on bruised bare flesh as Thrasher Gretchen laid into her was music to her ears.

All the way through Charlene mocked and laughed, at particularly painful strokes she shouted ‘Good shot Miss, aim there again harder!” Or similar.

Kate told her Captain how sorry she was between her sobs after being allowed to stand.

“I’m sorry for being a bully, I never…sob..will be again…sniff.”

Then it was Samantha’s turn.

And how Thrasher Gretchen made her howl! Every single stroke was full force with a mighty swing, she shouted ‘sorry Captain’ and begged forgiveness and mercy all the way through as Charlene laughed and pointed, encouraging every single stroke.

“Right! It is over, get to the projection screen and stand there! Are you satisfied Charlene?”

“Oh yes Miss Beauer, I am, very!”

“Thank your Captain girls!”

“thank you Captain for showing us how horrid we were, we will be better people from now on…sniff.”

“yes, we are….oooooh…..sniff very very sorry Captain.”



The Countess Blush

Every girl in the remote village of Wellingbeck had been told not to venture into the forest over many generations. Tales and songs about the woods and its frightening inhabitants have sent a chill down many a young maidens spine on cold winter evenings.

There was a little rhyme often said at Halloween, between girls…

Nearly every girl in the village had heeded the warning for centuries …nearly every girl. But every generation had one girl who didn’t, and this generation was no different. The girl who released the Vampire ‘Countess Blush’ onto the generation of her time was Samantha.

The stories of  Brocklehurt House had fascinated her since she first heard of it at the age of seven, and by the age of fourteen she had amassed quite a collection of books about it. At school that year she had done a presentation in assembly about it, and got the highest marks for her year, and an award.

This cycle of seven year happenings was how it worked, not that she knew it at the time. The ‘chosen ones’ over the ages never did, why should they? And so it was, led by unseen guiding hands, at the age of twenty one, that curiosity led her to buy her first pack of tarot cards.

At the age of twenty eight it was the cards that told her to go to the woods.

The woods. Not just any woods, but the forbidden woods.

Nobody went to these woods alone, not even in the daytime.

Nobody in their right mind would go alone at night.

Nobody, not anybody, would go alone at Halloween.

Would they?

Yes, one headstrong independant girl, in each generation would probably do just that, and occassionally one did.

October 31st saw Samantha, with torch in hand, alone, in the woods.

To be precise, she was stood exactly where she should not be. She was stood in shock, staring.

Staring at Brocklehurst House. The house that was supposed to be an empty ruin.

Frozen in fear, her feet were unable to move. A light had just come on in an upstairs room.

The beacon of yellow light should not move, well, maybe if it was a lighthouse it would. But this was not a tower protecting sailors, it was a spookey house in the deep dark woods, and fog was descending like a thin shroud thrown over a body. The light began to traverse, towards her… and now she stood, bathed in its light.

I suppose that would be enough to root anyone to the spot.

Yet it wasn’t that.  It was the voice. Not just any voice either, it was the voice she had heard every time she had used the cards. But today it was outside her body, not inside her head. The sweet sensual voice of Countess Blush.

It did not say anything horrid, far from it. All it did was greet her. “Hello Samantha, I’ve been waiting for you.”

That is why she was stood as still as a rabbit ensnared in the headlights of an oncoming car, unable to move.

She was not able to move until the light began to slowly move away from her, along the path leading to the door. She followed it, it was as if it had a collar around her neck, drawing her closer to the door.

She should have listened to the warnings. She should have taken notice of the stories.

But it was too late.

She was stood at the door, the partly open, sun parched, cracked old door. As seductive as an open cunt is to an erect throbbing manhood, she could not resist entering. She slid between its lips easily, to enter a warm moist passageway.

Before her was a wood panelled hallway, with stout doors on either side, and at the end of the hallway was a staircase. Before realising it, she was climbing the treads one by creaking one. The bannister rail with its curled end was like a long cold arm reaching towards her, the curled end like a hooked finger beckoning.  Thirteen steps later she was at the top, and three doors stood before her. She moved to the one on the right, it’s door handle was not dusty like the other two. She gripped her trembling hand around the loose I’ll fitting brass doorknob, and turned it.

Seconds later, not knowing when she had removed her clothes, she was naked, and falling asleep in a beautiful warm bedroom.

Beautiful slumber, like she had never known before, enveloped her like the amniotic fluid of a mothers womb.

She felt safe.


Below her, not under the bed, but under the stairs in an old air raid shelter put there during World War I, sat the Countess. The old shelter was a sort of small gateway, the gateway between the ruin, and the past, where she could wander the ruin, but nowhere else. She was sat with her Deck of cards, the same type of deck that Samantha owned. By her on the table were three Chinese coins, an aid to her use of the I-Ching.

Earlier that night as the light had found her, she had spoken through the door that led to the old ruin.

“Hello Samantha, I’ve  been waiting for you.”

As the girl made her way to the door The Countess Blush sat down at her divination table, where her runes, cards and three Chinese coins awaited her skilled use. They rested atop a thousand year old, hand painted divination board. One painted by the countess herself.

Yes, you heard right. The Countess was a thousand years old, and that is why a twenty eight year old beautiful woman seemed like a girl to her that night.

She sat down and took the cards, the first one had to be chosen from four queens. Samantha was given the ‘Queen of Wands’ that fateful night.

One by one the cards were placed, as the girl walked down the hallway and up the stairs.

One by one the cards were interpreted as the girl climbed nearer the bedroom door.

As Samantha opened the door Countess Blush drew the card she knew would be there and smiled.

‘The Lovers’  a beautiful card was placed on the board as Samantha’s tiny, tight, white cotton knickers slid down  her thighs, then her calfs to land on the floor.

Countess Blush sensed them land, and listened as Samantha slumped to the bed, naked and waiting. She could smell her prey like a wolf could smell blood over a great distance, but it was not blood but the aroma of her love juices, which at that very moment dribbled from her engorged lips to dampen the bedspread. The damp little patch began to grow.

Countess changed, her countenance and demeanour altered, she lowered herself to the floor like a cat, and leaped gracefully and silently on to her cushions. Then like a spider scurrying quickly along she moved to the doorway  of the shelter.

She looked up and began to creep stealthily like a fox, up from the cellar, through the kitchen and into the wood panelled hallway, to reach the stairs.

She could hear the girl breathing as she climbed.

Half between this world and then next, her spherical shape slid like a snake, leaving ribbons of what looked like ectoplasm trailing behind her.

Samantha slept like a baby and when the vampire loomed out of the shadows atop the stairs, she had no idea of the peril, just yards away.

Through the bedroom door she slid, as she turned back to her usual, sensual, curvy, self.

Still Samantha had no idea.

Samantha was doomed, her sexual fate of submissive slavery sealed. Their was no escape from the room or her fate. Slowly, quietly, The Countess Blush closed in on her feast.

“Turn your bottom towards me, present yourself to your Mistress.”

Samantha rolled over, and slid her delicious cheeks towards the teeth of her Mistress.

Mistress Blush let her hand glide along the quilt towards the full ripe bottom before her.

Ohhhh the warmth of her bottom felt like nectar to her. The touch was Devine, The Countess Blush drooled at the sight.

She caressed her lovely bottom and Samantha moaned in pure pleasure

Countess Blush could smell the juices dribbling from Samantha’s slit, it was like some heady, exotic Oriental perfume, and she need to touch it, to drink on it…to feast on it. “Open your legs my pretty slave, let me taste you.”

Her hands and soft seductive whispered words began to tease the legs of her helpless victim open. “Open them my precious, show yourself.”

“Come on my sweet little rose, show me you nectar, open your petals, let my tongue be your busy little bee.”

She used her hand to gently open the swollen labia. “Do you want me to slide my fingers in you?”

Samantha began to thrust her groin slightly in an intoxicating rhythm. “Yes my beautiful Mistress, I want to feel your caress within me.”

“Tell me again my pet, tell me what you need from Mistress Blush.” As she spoke her long tongue licked.

“Oh my Mistress, please, finger me Mistress.” This was the moment when Samantha saw her Mistress for the first time, and she fell deeply into her eyes.

“Oh I will.” Whispered Mistress Blush the Vampire, as the legs of Samantha opened willingly like her heart did, to new love and hope.

Gently at first, Mistress began to rub Samatha on her hard little clitoris, as she spoke.

“Do you like me to rub your pussy Samantha?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Do you like my finger to slip in like this?”

“Oh fucking hell! Yes, yes I do!”

“Don’t swear. That is naughty.”

Mistress stopped rubbing. Samantha tried to push down on her beautiful fingers again, but tormentingly the skilful Mistress kept them just out of reach.

The picture on the wall, the ancient artwork of the first Vampire in the Blush Dynasty, turned its head to see the tormented soul lost in temptation before her.

“Of course my pretty little slave, you know what naughty girls get don’t you?”

“Spankings Mistress?”

“Yes, my fallen angel, spankings! Would you like Mistress to spank you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Ask me, beg me.”

“Please Mistress, spank me! I need a spanking, pleeeeease Mistress!”

“Then arise my naughty slave and present yourself.”

The Vampire stood, looking magnificent as the light illuminated her profile.

Samantha presented herself, her beautiful strawberry blonde hair cascading down her back and shouted loud. “I’m a naughty slave Mistress, spank me, spank me.”

The vampire’s teeth grew, long slender and sharp, like a cat’s, as she looked at the tempting, wriggling, desperate bottom before her.


Samantha caught sight of Edith, the Grandmother of Countess Blush in the frame next to her. It’s black and white eyes and face turned towards her as Samantha, in all her naked glory begged for more.

The Countess spanked her, making her cheeks blush.

Slowly at first, cheek to cheek, she watched as her bottom wobbled at each smack. Drinking in the sight before her.

She began to concentrate on one cheek, the one nearest to her, the left one.

Her left hand was delicately placed above her bottom, althoug sweetly poised and elegant, it held its grip, Samantha’s bottom was firmly locked in place.

Her aim narrowed as she began to spank vigorously in one spot. She waited for the sign of a kicking leg of a spankee’s leg, bending at the knee.

Then with a flurry of smack she concentrated on what she called her spanking cherry, a tiny area which she spanked quickly with her finger tips to create a cherry red.

This was the ‘Cherry Blush’.

Her whole vision became consumed by it. She reared up and stared at the spot where the blood had risen to the surface. She took aim, her mouth opened as spittle stretched a yarn like a spider’s web between her upper and lower teeth.

She bit the beautiful soft inviting cheek of Samantha’s bottom, and Samantha yelped like a puppy being trod on. The Countesses cat like teeth locked in and she sucked.

She sucked blood, for five minutes or more, making a noise like a child with a soother, or a lollipop, until she was full.

She released her grip and studied her mark on the flesh.

Blood began to trickle down in two lines.


She traced the two lines until they stopped and talked to the shape of her own mouth. “You are mine now, you belong to the Blush Dynasty…forever.”

Samantha orgasmed, like never before, and replied. “Yes Mistress.”

The Countess stood, and twirled the hair of her new daughter, and pulled. “Follow me, my pretty girl.”

“Yes Mistress.” Came the meek and mild reply.

Her bottom hurt from the bite as she moved, and she loved it. Slowly she climbed from the bed, to  be tugged by the hair, and out of the door.

Just a few short steps took them to another small room. The Countess opened the door and dimly lit in a recess was a religious art work, many years old. “Surely”, thought Samantha,”… it is a Saint.”

“Go and stand facing away from the picture, press your bottom to the cool canvas.”commanded her Mistress.

Samantha almost had two minds working at once, one a questioning mind, the other one submitting to a new world with new experiences.

She knew she was in the forbidden ruin.

She knew she was entering a new existence.

She pressed back onto the cold hard oil paint, the bite in her bottom stung as she did so.

She smiled.

“You are at a gateway Samantha, behind him is the world you knew. Before you is my world.”

Samantha understood, somehow she knew she was stood behind a metal gate of sorts, like a portcullis.

It was daylight now in her old world. The only thing on the other side of the portcullis was the ruin. Rooks cawed, but nothing and nobody was near. It stood as it did every day, forlorn, and uninviting.


The Countess Blush continued with her first conversation and instruction. “This used to be the gateway out of our Kingdom, but the church blocked it in the 1500’s. He…” She pointed to the Saint “…is the Guardian. We cannot get by him. We are destined to be able to wander our ruin and no more in their world.”

Samantha frowned. “What about the way I came in?”

“Exactly. A way in. He cannot stop anyone coming in. Like you.. Neither could he stop us wandering our own world when we wish.” Smiled the Countess.

She continued, thoughtfully. “There is something you need to do, but first, kiss me.”

They kissed and fondled before the Saint, it made them feel decadent and delightfully  terrible.

Fingers tugged pubic hair and cupped beautiful soft firm breasts as bodies were explored.

At that exact moment in the offices of ‘The Welbeck Times’ an investigative reporter named Kate was researching her latest assignment about the legends surrounding the local woods and mysterious disappearances of various young ladies. She was a good photographer, and was planning a trip to the old ruin in the woods.

As Kate made frantic exciting notes about the most exciting and alluring case she had ever been assigned, the two vampires embraced.

“I want to show you something, bend down, look at these old books  Samantha.”

Samantha loved hearing the Countess use her name.

They bent down to look.

Under construction….more soon! Keep popping back…





Rosie Bottom’s Blushing Buns Cafe – Part Two

if you haven’t done so, I should read part one first to get a feel of the scenario.


Unbeknown to the girls, a few days before all what had happened, and  realising her waitresses behaviour was getting steadily worse, Rosie had decided that spanking the waitresses by hand was not really enough. Neither for them or her.

Both the girls and herself had needs, Dominant and submissive needs, that were not being met, so, she had sent off for a few catalogues, and found that a company called  seemed to have the best selection. She ordered two tawses and a cane.

They had soon arrived and were put into her office. She anticipated that one day she would call them in for discipline, and there before them on the desk, would be the punishment implements.

After spanking the girls by hand, on their bare bottoms before the customers, for their disgraceful behaviour, she went to her office. Surely after being publicly punished, she could leave them alone whilst she did some paperwork.

‘My word, they are in for a surprise soon!’ She thought.

She took her cafe blouse off and slipped into her office top, she hated the smell of cooking being brought into the office, so she put it in a small locker

She had got on rather well with the man who sold them to her, and decided to let him know of their impending usage. She called ‘Ouch’.. “Hello, is that Mr.. Tersley? Oh hello Roy, it’s Rosie Bottom from the Blushing Buns  Cafe, I am just ringing up to say that the punishment implements you make are excellent and will be used sooner than expected, much sooner in fact, the girls I spoke of have been very naughty and are in for a shock!”

A delighted and amused Roy Tersley thanked her for the call and said a report of their use would be appreciated, and if she was willing could  he use her words on the web site recommendations page.

She agreed, and after doing her work, followed by a coffee, she slipped back into her work attire, picked up all three implements, and returned to the cafe, and so the story resumes from where we left off in Part One…


 Kate bent over as instructed.  The girls could see the new tawses, the smell of freshly tanned leather filled the air. Kate pleaded for mercy as soon as she saw the harsh looking implements. 

“Oh Mistress, please, that looks terrifying! Please, don’t, I’m sorry, very sorry….pleeeeease!”

“It’s time you  learned a real lesson Kate!”

Charlene walked to the cafe counter nonchalantly , leaned against it and laughed. “Spank her hard with them Mistress, make her dance, she’s a naughty girl isn’t she Mistress?”

Rosie glanced at her and tutted. “Quiet!” Then slowly pulled down Kate’s knickers to just below her beautiful ample bottom.

Charlene sulked and sat down to watch Kate get spanked with the tawse, it looked cruel, yet strangely beautiful.

Kate looked over her shoulder with a worried look, as her Mistress tapped it lightly against her vulnerable cheeks, to take aim.

“My hand is not enough for you two, it is time for some serious discipline and training! It is time that leather and rattan began to kiss your cheeks!”


The tawse was a virgin implement no longer as it struck those pale globes with force, a resounding smack echoed around the empty cafe. Soon followed by a squeal.”


She raised it again and delivered another five in quick succession. Kate jumped about screaming and begging, but Rosie just ignored her pleas and delivered a good sound punishment.




“Right! Swop places! You are getting six more than Kate, because you started it Charlene!”

Charlene was horrified. “No Mistress, please no, no, no!”

“CHARLENE! Get here..NOW!”

They changed places, and Kate sat down gingerly, with a wince of pain. She looked at her rival. “Not so clever now are you! Spank her good and proper Mistress.”

And of course, Rosie did just that, with more vigour and more strokes of the leather tawsee, than Katie got!

Katie delighted in the spectacle before her as Charlene jumped from foot to foot wriggling and squealing.

The new shiny leather tawse whistled through the air and cracked repeatedly on her naughty plump cheeks.

How Katie loved it. She did not know which end to look at. The screwed up squealing, crying face, or the wobbling, bouncing reddening cheeks. She settled for alternate looks at each! Right up to the last, extra hard, echoing



Panting for breath, Rosie stopped. “Now you can see what is in store for you both in the future! You both need punishments like this more often, and more training. And I don’t mean waitress training. Tomorrow night it is back here, both of you naked. For some obedience training! Now off you go!”

They both left sulkily, but deep down they had both drank their punishments up like hungry puppies drank warm cream.

The next day in the cafe went well, no spankings, no tellings off, all in all it was quite uneventful… That is, until the evening, when after work, in twilight, the cafe once again took on a delightful warm hue, and Mistress greeted the girls.

“Hello my little beauties, you have done well today, well done. Now both of you, strip!”

The naughty waitresses did as they were told, and stripped.

“Now kneel, side by side.”

the naughty waitresses did as they were told, and knelt.

Mistress Rosie calmly walked up behind them and slipped a rope leash around each of their necks. Which they loved. “Now my little girls, tonight you are my ponies. Tonight is all about obedience. Understood?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“You will obey each command I give,  as quickly as possible, if I am not satisfied your new ‘attitude correctors’ will come out to kiss your lily white plump cheeks again. Now…kiss each other.”

Instantly the girls did so, much to the delight of the beautiful Rosie Bottom.

Her precious girls, like two little fillies were naked before her, her Domme dreams fulfilled.

“Tell Mistress how much you like being my submissives.”

The girls looked to each other and told Mistress how much they loved her, how they adored her strict ways, her voice, her legs, her face, her clothes. They told her how they love to serve, to be controlled and told what to do.

“Perfectly put my little ponies. And talking of ponies…” She giggled. “I want to ride you. Charlene, put your hands up, Katie, get on all fours!”

Rosie clicked her tongue. “Giddy up girls!”

The girls whinnied and bucked up and down.

“Come on, trot faster!”

Mistress rubbed her pussy hard on the ridge of Kate’s lower spine and galloped until she had an orgasm, watching Charlene’s bottom bounce faster and faster as commanded.

She stayed there for a full five minutes, breathing deeply in recovery time. The cafe was quiet, warm and still. The two Submissives in particular loved this tranquil moment in time, which slowly etched itself indelibly into their memories as the cafe clock ticked loudly.

“Now then my little pets, ahem…” She coughed as she put her voice back in its commanding tone.

The girls giggled.

Mistress frowned.

“Up you get my little ponies! I want you prancing, and keep the knees high!”

The waitresses noticed a subtle change in her voice, not cruel, but more assertive, they grew nervous and sexually excited. This voice signified arousal and flogging. They loved it!

The girls pranced for their Mistress like highly trained Austrian display horses.


Looking aloof, and totally in control, Mistress Rosie watched their every step. “Faster my pretty fillies, dance for your Mistress!”

Out of breath the girls were allowed to stop. Mistress took her turn to delight in heavy breathing. The clock seemed to tick louder..





“You have been spanked recently, as you know. But now your Mistress has a selfish need to punish you.”

She knew that both girls had their own selfish needs, to be punished.

“to the counter…NOW!”

Both girls trotted over immediately.

Mistress tied their leashes high. The ownership of their bottoms was now in Rosie’s possession. They wanted her to do exactly as she pleased with them, their bodies were hers, they wanted to please her.

Mistress went for her crop, and stood looking at them. “This is going to hurt, you are going to scream, writhe and wriggle. There is only one person who decides for how long, how many, how hard…understood?”

Both girls agreed willingly, and nervously. They were totally hers.

This was a moment in time that even the girls would struggle to explain.

…for a Domme this moment is precious and beautiful to their eyes, it helps to satisfy her needs. The sight of two naked girls, struggling, wriggling and writhing like snakes. Vulnerable and eposed with no defence or way of escape. Their bottoms hers, to punish as they scream.

…for the girls it was that feeling of being restrained, helpless and under control. The fear that here in this room, this cafe, right now, their life’s choices, nor their bottoms, were their own. They were owned. Fear of pain, fear of not pleasing, and not knowing how  hard or how long the thrashing would be.

Both parties of this arrangement though, were exactly where and how they wanted to be.

Their bottoms felt extremely vulnerable and exposed. They could see Rosie’s eyes focussed on their cheeks. She meant business.

Rosie positioned herself.

She took them by surprise, the first strokes were delivered hard and fast, only seconds between each one.

Mistress stood back to observe them, as slowly they settled. The stripes on their bottom excited her, her power over them at moments like this were what she craved more than anything. “Beg for more you dirty little bitches, you know you want it!”

They begged helplessly, not for mercy, but for more.

She he knew exactly how she wanted them and adjusted their posture, until their bottoms were perfectly placed for the next onslaught.

“Perfect, now keep them at that height when I lay this crop on your naughty cheeks.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She walked in time to the ticking clock which suddenly filled their senses.

Imagine how they felt…

Two young women who both knew exactly what they are at the right age. Too many let the world know  too late in life, but not these. They listened to the caressing voice of their Mistress, strict and in control. They picked up on every key word or phrase. They needed her, they wanted to please her, they wanted to thrust their bottoms out for punishment, to be afraid yet, at the same time yearn for the very same pain they feared.

And their Domme, drinking the sight before her like a vampire drinking blood. The submissive looks and meek mild voices fuelled her passion. The way they thrust out made her drip. The act of whacking those pert rumps, seeing then quiver and the girls scream, yet push up again, and again were life’s blood to her soul.

She stood to their left, and thrashed them hard.

Her body shape in the perfect caning pose thrilled them.

The whistle and crack of the crop terrified and excited them.

Rosie was in full flow.

A magnificent Domme.

…when the two delicious bottoms before her were suitably striped, and the girls had stopped shuddering and whimpering Rosie summoned them to her side.

She caressed their beautifully curved buttocks with the crop as she spoke.

“You have satisfied my craving, you are the best two submissive’s a Domme could wish for. Do I make you happy?”

Both girls replied eagerly.

“Oh yes Mistress, you are perfect!”

“Yes, she’s right, we adore you, and how you treat us. We need punishment, and we are so glad you got the new things. They hurt tremendously, we will enjoy fearing them.”

Rosie laughed. “You do both say the most wonderful things, that is why I love you both…equally.”

Both girls squirmed wiith pleasure, and then winced as Rosie said “Come on, girls, this way!” And cracked the crop across their cheeks.

She led them to the drink store and told them to get glasses and a bottle of their choice.

As they chose their drink Rosie stripped naked and sat at a table. Together they sat and toasted their good fortune at finding each other.

Kate said, “Oh Mistress, we only fetched two glasses!”

Rosiie picked up the bottle and took a swallow. “Oh good! Another reason to spank you! But not tonight. Let’s drink these and then go upstairs to bed and drink each other.”





The Inveigle – Chapter Two – The Misadventures of Molly the Victorian Maid

Unlike my other stories which are illustrated using photos I have taken in my studio, this chapter will use a lot of my vintage photo collection.

THE ‘INVEIGLE’ STORY IS STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION, (although fifteen chapters are drafted, and I think it could well end up a trilogy)

I suggest you read ‘THE INVEIGLE’ intro and chapter one, but not necessarily so, THIS IS ACTUALLY CHAPTER TWO. You will find it here…




My name is Molly Jones.

I remember the day I arrived at ‘The Beeches’, a beautiful large family house on the outskirts of the town I had grown up in. I walked up the long copper beech lined drive with Miss Markham, the owner of the orphanage and ragged school I had quite happily attended, she had given me a book as a present and as I read what she had written to me I cried. But I knew we would still see each other and excitement took over.

As I approached it, the sheer size of the grand gothic mansion frightened me.

It was the family home of the Rumptons, who had made a fortune from coal and the developments of the industrial revolution.

Now it was the home of Reginald Rumpton a prolific and quite famous  artist, and his wife Gloria who had raised a family of ten daughters, including a set of twins who lived there, with a huge array of downstairs staff. Mainly female.

You will meet them all, and I hope you will enjoy the many encounters and adventures that befall us all as my narrative unfolds.

I have worked here, and The Inveigle, for many years now, and would not want to be anywhere else in the world. This is a story of spanking, lots of lovely Victorian spankings. They will unfold before you like the parting of a pair of open back bloomers, but for now be patient with me, let’s go back to the beginning of my time here.

I mentioned briefly my time at school, there I was punished many times. An experience that I could never say was too distasteful, in fact, many times it was just the opposite. Even at the end of a long beating I can still recall pushing my bottom up for the next stroke. It could be said I suppose that spanking is within me, it is something I crave along with everything that goes with it, from being caught and chastised, all the way through to corner time and humiliation. I suppose that is why my time at school was to me, at least, a good time. I could never understand the fuss some of the girls made when being beaten on the bare bottom.

Maybe I am a little strange, but if I was, so we’re quite a few others!

Talking of my bottom, I have been blessed with an extraordinarily beautiful one. A curvy rump perfect for spanking. In my childhood I discovered the delights of self spanking in a mirror whilst using my other hand to masturbate. Nothing much has changed ever since, apart from the number of different people and implements that now serve my need.

And that is it. I need spanking, I desire it, I crave it. I love it. I love everything about it, like I have just said, all of it, from the chastisement and baring of my rump, to the pain, to the corner time, all mixed in with a heaping dose of humiliation please!

Prior to coming to the ‘Beeches’ it was as if my life was a drawing, where I spent a great deal of time imagining spankings. After that wonderful day, my life became an array of real life sumptuous spanking in all their glory.

Let me tell you all about it.

I know now what this place is, a disguise for some kind of spanking emporium, a punishment bordello almost! A place where the outside world is kept away, and only those with a deep rooted sado-masochistic instinct are allowed. Either to live, serve or visit. Miss Markham is a regular visitor to this day, and I found out later in life that she, and many other clients like her were actually a sort of grooming parlour for would be maids. Those with the ‘push the bottom up’ attitude were observed and finally selected.

But of course when I arrived I had no such inkling.

I was greeted by the Housekeeper, a Mrs Fletcher, a kindly looking soul whom I found to be stern but fair, and the best pastry cook in England. She showed me to my room and calmed my nerves. Then she did the best thing anyone ever did to me, she introduced me to Rose, who was to become my lifelong best friend and lover. She just left me at the old dark brown stained panelled door, and gave me a key. “In you go my lovely, it’s time to meet your room mate.” She walked away laughing, leaving me quite breathless.

“Good grief! I had my own key!”

I walked in and there sat on our sofa, as bold as brass, showing her stocking tops was Rose.

“Hello Molly, my name is Rose, I hope we get on, because we will sleep together in here, and I am to show you the ropes ‘n all.”

She turned, and I blushed. I could not take my eyes off her crutch and the most marvellous knickers I had ever seen!

“Oh I can see what you are looking at you naughty girl! I think we will get on fine!” She said wagging her finger. “I am a good judge of people, I think we will get along fine and dandy.”

Anyone who looked like her, called me a naughty girl and wagged her finger, was always going to be a big hit with me! That was it, from that day on we were unseparable soul mates, what on earth had we done without each other!

She took me down to the kitchen, where we met many other maids, all curious in me, and all lovely. We had hot chocolate, and the most delicious apple pie ever. I wolfed it down as she watched.

“Bloody hell, hungry then.” She laughed.

She told me a lot about the place and the people, I just could not keep up. Soon my eyes were almost shut, her voice was like summer rain falling gently from the sky, it just tinkled along at a steady entertaining pace, that you could let wash over you all day long.

“Come on Molly, big day tomorrow, we are off shopping!”

She took me upstairs, we had a little chat and then I fell into bed, the next thing I knew it was 6 o’clock in the morning and she was having a wash. “We are off to get you kitted out in your uniform today Molly. We will be out all day, so you can tell me all about yourself. I have been given money and we are allowed an hour for lunch in a cafe.”

I had never been in a cafe, nor in many shops truth be told.

We went to an outfitters that specialised in women’s wear, undergarments, and maids uniforms.

Next door was a place that specialised in bloomers and corsets.

I had had never felt so special, it seems the Rumptons were good customers and greatly respected.

We stopped for lunch, and went to ‘Higgingbottoms’ a very well to do establishment. I had never seen so many glasses, cutlery or China on a table. I was nervous at first, but had been brought up well and managed more than adequately. Plus Rose was wonderful at it, she even tipped the waitress.

Then we went back in for my fittings, and before long I was stood showing myself to Rose in my underwear!

In my bloomers and corset too.

My waist had never been so tiny, nor my hips so ‘child bearingly capable’!

Then finally I showed her my maids outfit.

“Oh they are going to love you!” Shouted Rose in glee.

I was not quite sure who ‘they’ were, I presumed it to mean the other staff.

Then off we went home, I felt happy, I felt that I was starting to belong to somewhere, and… I had a key of my very own!

The first two months were spent meeting the family and other maids as I learned my more mundane duties.

These were such things as, holding the chamber pot as I helped my new Mistresses with their toilet. This often led to trimming of the lady garden

I love washing and bathing the ladies of the house, especially drying and powdering their delicate little creases.

Dressing them, and handling the beautiful clothes was always a joy, and I became quite adept at doing hair and helping pick jewelry that matched.

Chores too! I learnt how to cook, not as good as Mrs Fletcher, but not bad at all really.

The latest thing is a new type of cleaner, it is ever so modern and uses electric to create something called a varicuum or something like that. Anyway it sucks up muck!

Rose showed me how to use it, in her usual naughty manner!

So that was my training in household duties, and we all worked hard as maids. But, when the lights went off, or there were parties, or one of the ladies of the house had a fancy, then things were altogether different!

Firstly it was our room, I mean Rose and my bedroom. We soon got to know each other intimately. Firstly by naughty talk about spankings, then about how it feels nice to rub our cunts.

Rose taught me that word!

We show each othe our cunts in candle light as we masturbate, talking naughty or reading the naughty penny dreadful type comic books. Sometimes we even had friends in and we all did it.

Oh the orgasms as we finger each other as others look are fantastic. And knowing that at the same time it is happening in other rooms makes it so naughty and erotic.

Some nights we writhe together like snakes, nobody quite sure who is fingering who, or what hole, sometimes we finger and lick bottoms too.

Getting to know everyone in the large house was lovely, the other maids were all so charming, and the sisters just as nice, and naughty! I often saw them with maids, or friends and even each other getting up to all sorts of frolics!

Talking of the girls, one of the first spankings I saw at the Beeches was of Beatrice, one of the older girls who was always daydreaming. We all love her, she writes wonderful spanking stories and sometimes reads them to us. She also knows some fine artists who illustrates them for her.

She had been late to finishing school, and was warned not to be late again,  but the next day she walked off with her head in the clouds as always! It wasn’t as if she dawdled, she actually took great strides, in a determined way, but not always in the right direction. She sort of meandered briskly!

She went through the park as she often did, but when warned not to be late is was probably not the best idea she had made in her life.

Before she knew it, she was late again and the familiar sight of her running to finishing school amused many who knew her and saw her. “Late again Beatrice?”

“Oh bother, yes! I am afraid I am!”

Her sisters had arrived home first later in the day after finishing school, and of course told their Mummy about Beatrice. Their Mummy, Mrs.Rumpton,  had been embarrassed a few times before, having to stand there in front of Miss Holyhead hearing about her daughter’s failings.

I was lucky that day, I was polishing the bannister rail when she came through the front door, her head hanging in shame, to hand a note to her Mummy.

Lady Rumpton erupted, and without delay dragged her upstairs by the ear, to her bedroom. I felt in the way, but with no escape I ran before them!

She gave her a long bare bottom spanking, with me looking on from the landing. What with the door open the smacks and her squeals echoed down to the entrance hall where I could hear her sisters giggling.

Afterwards I just stood there, not knowing what to do.

The Mistress of the house pushed by me, as Beatrice lay sobbing on her bed. I walked in and asked if I could help. She looked up at me and smiled through her big brown eyes and asked me to rub some soothing cream on her bottom.

She still had her lovely hat on. The smell of her was like a summers day in a meadow, her fine scarlet bottom was raised and sore as gently I rubbed the cream in. She thrust at me and I just could not resist letting my finger tips brush her pussy.

Before long our fingers were in each other and we kissed.

We moved over to this lovely green a white chair by the window, where our legs spread wide open.

First I fingered her to orgasm, then she me. I stayed for three hours, and nobody missed me!

That shows how important I was to the house doesn’t it?! Nobody missed me!!

But that is how it was, little dalliances where happening everywhere, it was normal, and nobody minded at all. Unless of course you were to be somewhere important, and I wasn’t.

The house was a heaven on earth. A place where women were not afraid to kiss women, and where behind the scenes, class and position did not matter. We were truely Bohemian.

One of the most exciting people on earth is Abigail she is the oldest daughter and performs on stage as a Masher. It seems she is descended from a famous lady who also performed on stage, she calls herself ‘Abigail Hayes’, the name being taken from her mother’s died of the family, it seems they had a rather famous, very naughty ancestor..

When a young woman is besotted with another, they are said to be mashed, especially schoolgirls. It was from this saying that the term ‘masher’ grew to mean a music hall girl who dressed as a man. A gentleman usually, in top hat and tails, probably with a rose in the lapel, and even a monocle.

Abigail is quite famous and has an army of adoring fans and the most I teresting group of friends ever! Many from the circus!

Her fans would come to see her hoping for a kiss or more, and their wishes were nearly always granted!

She arranged for a group of circus performers to come and give us a private show, a sort of erotic circus! She said that this would be the birth of an idea she wants to put her considerable wealth into, something she will call..


We had no idea what she meant, we just listened captivated.

We all gathered together in the main dining hall which had a conservatory leading to the beautiful lawns where a big top had been erected! It started with the best pair of hips I had ever seen. Abigail got us all singinging along to ‘the girl I love is up in the gallery’. We all clapped the melody as she dressed in her masher outfit, started swinging this delicious girl to and fro on a low trapeze! Smacking her bottom on her return swing in time to the music. We all shouted ‘More more!’ And then she shouted for a volunteer.

Rose got up and ran out, getting undressed!

She shouted to me as she ran out, “I’m not missing a chance of a flamboyant public spanking from Mistress Abigail”

So soon, to another well known, but ruder song, they all began again to ‘all the nice girls love a candle’. Both girls having their bottom smacked as they swang to and fro, we cheered every smack!

Rose ran back to cuddle up to me naked, someone threw us a blanket and said ‘Behave yourselves under there!’

We didn’t. It was wonderful having her naked by my side all afternoon.

The trapeze act continued with a naked girl who asked for a girl to come out and lick her pussy at the end of  her act. They both left together to many wolf whistles and cheeky comments!

Abigail then sang another song for us, it was surreal. A wooden hoop descended and up she climbed. She straddled it and sang until she had an orgasm! Her pussy was right over the hoop as it swung to and fro, it was so sexual, and beautiful, I will never forget it. She kept singing, and her face as she began to cum was so sexy!

She climbed down to be greeted by a still tranquil silence, we all knew we had seen something special, we were in awe of her. Her face shone in the limelight, due to her sweating, it was one hell of an orgasm.

Then, after the silence, we all applauded.

She then spoke calmly to the room as she straddled a chair, with a whip in her hand. It was time for more unusual entertainment. We all knew she was building up to something, but what? And this strange word, ‘inveigle’ what was it?  She toyed with the whip and was about to speak, when she was interrupted.

One girl shouted, ‘use that on my arse!’

She looked at the girl and smiled, as she cracked the whip. ‘You my dear, are coming back to my room.”

The girl stood up, curtsied and said ‘Yes Please.’

Abigail cracked the whip again and shouted, ‘Bring on the animals!’

A girl came in with what is called a zebra, I have heard of them, and seen drawings of them in ‘The Echo’ when they wrote about an explorer, but this was the first I had seen. She stood on it’s back as it trotted and did somersaults! To be honest she did a private show for some ‘well to do’ ladies afterwards, and all I can say is two things…

It was unnatural.

And I wish I had seen it! It had fucked her as she lay on a little bed underneath. I wonder if it has a striped cock?

It was such a proud animal. The girl looked at us, after her acrobatics, and announced the arrival of ‘Our Special Animals!’

We all looked bemused as the lights went down, and when they came bright again we were treated to some lovely sights!

Two very naughty girls were riding big greasy dildos on a wooden pig! That got some cheers and ribald comments!

We cheered them on to their orgasms, the show was getting so rude! We loved it!

Two girls came on to the ‘stage’ flapping wings, they were ever so pretty in amazing costumes. Then we all had to stand as the girls layed two eggs! The eggs had numbers on, and whoever were sat at those numbered seats came to claim their game birds.

We could see what was happening then! We were all being grouped for some night time orgy which had been rumoured.

A girl dressed as a horse came on next, very slowly, whinnying and stomping her foot.

Who would Rose and I get? We squeezed each other in anticipation.

The Ring Mistress said this girl needed breaking in and training, she took off her top hat and pulled out a number. A great friend of ours, Eve squealed and ran to claim her prize. They gave her a crop and she rode her out of the ring, whacking her bottom crying ‘faster, faster!’

Then it was the slave girl Lottery!

Girls came out and did various acts, juggling, acrobatics, fire eating and all sorts of things. They displayed themselves in various exotic, erotic ways for the raffle, we had numbers twenty two and twenty three.

Here is Esmeralda, number twenty two, she is a contortionist.

You can’t see her face, but she is beautiful. A lovely cunt too, hasn’t she, and a ripe bottom for spanking. She came to sit with us, to find out who twenty three was. It was Irene, here she is.

She drifted down naked on a trapeze, and I walked down to collect her. I felt quite famous!

The show continued until we all had a girl. All were gorgeous! One of the last girls walked on her hands for ages, she must be so strong to do that.

The final act came on riding a bicycle with no seat, just a huge dildo! After she had fucked it, she rode over to the last girl in the audience, who was looking a bit forlorn, but her face lit up as the girl on the bike rang her bell and winked, it was magical. We can see why they made her wait now, it was Daisy! They rode off together, Daisy on her handlebars laughing loudly as we sang…

‘Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do,

I’m half crazy, all for the love of you….etc etc

The show was rounded off with the Ring Mistress on a chair. She said, ‘I have to do everything, so they have stuck a brush up my arse so I can sweep up after the show! She had a cute little Yankie hat on, and fired a gun to the roof to finish. She took out a sabre and waved it as she said ‘Goodnight all, let the orgy begin!”

Abigail walked down with her maid, and said she would speak to us all later,  and the three left together, what a night of debauchary followed…

The whole house was full of sex that night, some walked from room to room, others stayed in groups. We smoked stuff, and used opium with 22 and 23, music played and we just did whatever pleased us, needless to say there was a great deal of spanking!

Rose and I stripped naked and just walked around drinking it all in, it was intoxicating! Or maybe that was the gin! We said we would meet the ‘numbered girls’ later.

We saw an older guest spanking one of us maids in the first room we visited. “Don’t you ever try my jewels on again!” She was saying as she punished her.

Oh, her bottom glowed so bright! We stayed to watch, until she fetched the birch, then left them to it. Down the hallway was the billiard room and we could hear someone playing.

It was young Lady Evelyn, she was doing trick shots whilst the two girls who looked after the zebra and monkeys watched. She had her prettiest open back bloomers on. It was very erotic!

 One of the girls unscrewed the end of the cue and fucked herself with it! After she had orgasmed, she got her friend to do the same herself.

The soft lubricated noise it made up her cunt was so sexy, we knelt before her and watched it sink in and out as we drank champagne out of tall, elegant cut glass flutes. Evelyn walked over and two more friends came in, but we decided to try the next room.

Hand in hand, naked, and more than a little stoned we walked along swaying, our soft shoulders bumping in to each other’s.


What a lovely surprise we had. Mrs Fletcher the Housekeeper was fucking one of the cooks! God she was going hard at it! She just turned to us and smiled. “Hello girls. Having fun?” Then carried on ramming her attachment up her friend on all fours, fast and hard.

I moved to the side of the cook and smacked her bottom in rhythm, and Rose did the same to Mrs Fletcher, who said she wished she had bought two of her long handled wooden spoons for us to use.

We left them gasping, and close to collapsing and stumbled on to the next room.

Where we found the girls we had won, fucking each other in a similar manner! Like us they had wandered around, stoned off their faces. They had been drinking laudnum, so we tried some. It’s wonderful, and later we tried absynth, a creamy green liquid, that was good too.

We watched them fuck a while, then Rose blurted out, “That looks fucking good fun girls, can we join in?”

And we did!

It was utterly beautiful, disgusting, sensual, terrible, erotic, debauched, filthy, lustful, sordid, decadent, immoral, perverse, magnificent, sexual, sex… I mean… SEX!

How many orgasms we shared, none of us knew. We fucked, we licked, we sucked, we buggered, we fingered all through the night.

My tongue went in mouths, cunts and arses!

We squirted our juice over each other and rubbed it in. We put our knickers on and delighted in peeling them down time and time again.

The crescendo, hours later was like an earthquake, we lay in a square all licking cunt and arsehole slowly for ages and came together as if we were having fits.

I used others, and was used myself, time and time again. People watched and cheered, our sexual fame grew.

The orgy continued into the next day. We all awoke feeling ‘hung over, from drink and opium.

Slowly we recovered and ate, Mrs Fletcher seems to have a wonderful recovery rate, by mid day we were eating bacon and sausage sandwiches, drinking lashings of tea.

The orgy was not over, it was to continue that evening in the guise of a Domme / sub party. Lots of our favourite clients arrived through the afternoon and we all chatted excitedly in the mess from the previous day.

Abigail announced that it must stay as it is, she wanted us to ‘wallow in our decadence!’ It was during that little lull that we all talked of Abigail’s upcoming surprise, what would it be? What is an Inveigle? All we could do was guess and watch the new guests arrive and enter our delightful mess! It must have smelled dreadful. Abigail delighted in the disgust some of the ‘posher’ ones showed!

Young, and mature, spankers and spankees. All lovers of spanking and humiliation walked up the drive all that afternoon. Lots of them!

The evening began with an announcement by Abigail. She looked eatable!

She stood there with a part of a steam vibrator in her hand. (Yes they did exist! And we’re very often used by visiting doctors to calm a woman who had stress etc) she told us that someone would be trying it out with her later. “…it will be the last survivor of the hunt!”

This meant that tonight’s party was going to be for the Dommes. All us maids, and nuns (girls who are not maids, but are Submissives) go off and hide. They are hunted down and punished for being caught, with no limit to their punishment.

This meant there were certain women you did not want to catch you, such as the evil young Lady Jacqueline of Westminster, who had a fancy for our friend Victoria, and had beaten her so severely once that it had to be stopped. When she arrived, she walked up to Victoria and said “I have unfinished business with you my little slut, and tonight when I find you, I will finish it.” After which she just turned away, as if Victoria was nothing but meat.

We all decided to protect Victoria, and make sure someone else found her. That woman, dressed in her usual Forrest Green scared us all, there was something unnatural about her.

Victoria felt safe, we were a resourceful bunch and could look after our own when we had too.

So when the night came, even Victoria was excited.

Abigail blew the horn, which signalled it was time to hide, we all ran off like mice when a light is lit. Rose was with me and off we went to our room, we wanted to be found, of course, and we’re not that bothered about winning really, we knew some of the older girls were desperate to be fucked by Abigail, our time would come.

Can you remember hiding as a child, or being chased? That feeling it gave you? In games like hide and seek. Well let me assure you this was a hundred times better, and a hundred times scarier!

We hid under our bed, naked! The horn sounded, and a huge cry went up! The hunt was on!

The  beautiful old house was full of screams, whacks and smacks all night long! Caught girls were subjected to all sorts of whims and fancies.

Some punishments were odd to say the least, and always accompanied by a spanking of some sort.

Every room, every single room and the marquee were used, the noise was so sexually exciting.

Victoria was found first, and soon crawling with a martinet in her teeth, so she was safe, and the lady who found her lovely. But this meant that Lady Jacqueline was on the loose, and angry.

Soon, naughty girls were in corners everywhere. But the night was young.

Maids spanked maids, Ladies spanked Ladies, ohhh the combinations and scenarios in that house that night were endless!

Not many open back bloomers stayed closed that night, let me tell you. And there were so many types of them. Where the girls got some of them I do not know, but…awwww! I want some!

Implements of every type were used, no bare bottom was spared a bruising. The hunt continued on and on…

Scenarios of all types too, but by far, a simple maids outfit was favourite.

Lots of girls when found were dragged into the main ballroom for public spankings, the walls soon filled with bright red bottoms doing corner time. Or rows of unspanked bottoms awaiting their fate.

The beautiful sound of spankings, squeals, laughter, orgasms, screams, whacks, cracks and joy, filled the whole house!

Girls were spanked by open windows so people could hear their squeals, along with the noise of smacks, outside. The beautiful summer evening filled with the scent of honeysuckle was a beautiful place to be. Those inside could hear those outside being spanked too! Some girls were spanked before large groups and some had to stand in line nervously awaiting their turn, and still many had to be found! Including us two!


We were eventually found and well spanked by a provocativly dressed Scottish Lady who used a tawse on us both….ooooh it hurt! There were still a third of us to be found as we were led away on leather leashes to the garden.

As we were led like slaves to an auction the vastness of the spanking orgy could be seen. Writhing bottoms, swishing canes, blushing cheeks were on stairs, on tables, on windows, you name it and somebody was spanked or punished with it or on it. These are some of the spankings we saw…

Our favourites were watching the maids spanking the Mistresses, and we bumped into Victoria with a carpet beater walking to Mistress Fanny’s bare bottom. She quipped, “I wish this was for Lady Jacqueline!”

Unfortunately for her she was just walking out of the next room. “Your old friends from the orphanage will pay for that…bitch!”

The hate in her eyes was as cold as a shark, it frightened us both and instantly silenced Victoria. What did she mean?

She looked stunningly sinister, but we had no time to linger as our slave Mistress tugged us away to the beautiful english rose gardens.

On entering the garden we saw Ivy being spanked by a lady with a  bunch of nettles and freshly cut birch.

It was late, drink flowed, so did cocaine and opium. The party changed again. It was time for the Dominatrix girls to get serious. We were put in a sort of yoke and made to trot like horses.

But that was mild compared to what some girls got. As we trotted around the house being ‘cropped’ along we saw so many inventive things.

Both inside the house and out in the garden! Costumes of every kind had been brought along.

The thing what excited all us submissive girls, craving control, humiliation and punishment very much indeed, was the appearance of our Dommes. They were …




And those who worked in groups were..



and Alluring!…

The party then faded away and people left, apart from two ladies who had been set on to record the events in erotic art, and a man! Yes a man, his name is George Barlow, and he took all these photos. The ladies were the friends of Beatrice’s, who illustrated her spanking novels.

This is my favourite.

Isn’t it wonderful?

Victoria was troubled, about her friends who worked at Lady Jacqueline’s Mill, and vowed to rescue them! So much was happening, our laudanum and opium filled minds found it hard to cope!

And then…

Then… Abigail made an announcement “We are moving! We will still have this place, but I have purchased an old theatre and the building next door to it. You are all going to be famous one day. I am to call it. THE INVEIGLE.

She sat and told us of her plans, the Inveigle Girls were born, and Abigail Hayes got a new name.

Rose invented it. She said ‘Oh Mistress Abigail, you do look after us all, you are like Mummy Bear in a story Mrs Markham used to read us.”

From that day on Mummy Bear ruled us all.


keep coming back, this is only the start!


Rosie Bottom’s Blushing Buns Cafe – Part One

Imagine a nice cosy cafe, in a pleasant little town, run by a Domme who uses her submissive girls as waitresses, and often spanks them before the customers  for their mistakes.

…would you go?

Well you can actually, in real life I mean.

You see, the cafe is real. I have my own studio where all the photos you see in these stories and on my tumblr spanking blog are taken. I have my girls. And one glorious night a year I open the cafe you will see here to my special invited guests.

Here is a story set in it…

Rosie Bottom’s Blushing Buns Cafe…

Last night Rosie left two of her girls, Katie and Charlene to make the cafe ready for the morning. To cut a long story short, they didn’t!

And that is where our story begins.

Rosie came home early to find the tables not wiped. It may seem a small thing, but Rosie prides herself on her little cafe’s appearance, she loves to have things ‘just so’.

She also loves an excuse to punish her submissives, and to train them, so she smiled wickedly to herself  and decided to teach them both a lesson in the morning.

It probably won’t surprise you to know that her girls want their lives like this. They NEED their lives to be like this. They are Submissives after all.

All are happy in their own way.

Rosie calls her girls and tells them to come in bright and early for one of their ‘special days’.

This delights them, but also scares them. A delightful mix of emotions, where the girls crave yet fear punishment, because their Mistress can be very hard, almost brutal.

She waits for them, arms folded and on their arrival as they walk through the door, Rosie immediately puts their rope tethers on and leads them in

“You left these tables with crumbs on, smears of jam, and worst of all, spilt milk!”

Both girls respond  together. “Sorry Mistress.”

Without looking at them she speaks coldly. “There is a well known saying my pretty little naughty girls. Don’t cry over spilt milk. Those who tell you that are wrong, because later today you two will be doing just that!”

“Stand up.”

She led them to the tables, and told them to start polishing the surfaces, vigorously, whilst she watched.

Their bottoms swayed and wiggled as they wiped the tables hard and fast. Although great friends the two girls always tried to outshine each other, and presenting their bottoms to their Mistress in this way, allowed them to try and get more praise than the other.

Conversely the two girls loved it when the other was in trouble and they saw them get spanked. Making fun of each other, pointing and giggling, was a great delight, especially if in public. Even more so if one had been able to get the other in trouble.

“Right, it is time to open up. You two carry on.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Yes Mistress.”

The girls carried on cleaning, deliberately pointing their delicious bottoms towards the entering customers as the began to take their seats.

The two girls, Charlene and Kate looked at each other and smiled.

Charlene then waited for Kate to bend over and twisted her cleaning cloth. She flicked it menacingly to strike a cheek of her bottom.


Kate, the dark haired girl rubbed her bottom, and of course retaliated.


Soon there was a scuffle developing as both girls took it in turns to flick their cloth at the other. Rosie hated being shown up before customers, she turned to look at them. A look that spoke ‘punishment’.

“Stop it! Right now!” Shouted Rosie as she began to walk towards them. The customers shuffled, it was obvious that something was going to happen.

But the fighting got worse. “Oh! I have had  enough of this.” She screamed.

“Stop this squabbling right now you naughty girls. Both of you, get on the floor, submit to me…NOW.”

“How dare you both show me up before my customers? Last night you left the tables a mess, and this morning you start a fight before them before you have even taken their orders!”

She turns to the customers. “They will bring you a free drink each, after I have spanked them. Is that acceptable?”

Of course, it was, spanking was one of the main reasons they came, although the food was good, and the delightful little Rosie Bottom buns were a triumph every time. Rosie was an accomplished cook

So the customers accepted the proposal.

“Right young lady, you can get just here!” Rosie said to Kate as she dragged her up.

And bent her over the table.

“And you can get yourself opposite Kate, come on Charlene, don’t dilly dally!”

The customers giggled at the poor girls approaching demise.

The spanking began with six crisp smacks on Kate’s ample, curvy, beautiful bottom. Delightful little yelps at each one echoed around the room.

Followed by six on Charlene’s equally plump beautiful bottom.

The customers were now like a theatre audience, watching a performance.

They delighted in the sounds of smacks, the wriggling bottoms trying to escape, the continuing chastisement, and of course, the squeals of pain.

“Right! That’s it, get back on with serving the customers and stop behaving like silly little girls.” Commanded Rosie.

And they did, starting with the free cups of tea that had been promised. Their behaviour was perfect, as was the service the customers got for the rest of the day, right up until 5 o’clock, when the doors shut.

Tables were wiped, properly, pots were washed and put away.

“Okay you two, come here.”

The girls went to stand before her, looking guilty. They loved their Mistress, and did not want to show her up, or annoy her really. Both apologised.

“Sometimes,” continued Rosie, “…an apology is not enough. I am going to punish you both, then train you, and punish you again. Then I have a little surprise for you both. I know who started it this morning, so it is you first Kate, get here! You stand there Charlene.”

Charlene laughed, because of course, as you saw, it was her who started it with a flick of her cloth. Kate tried to protest, but was instantly silenced.

“Bend over this table Kate, I am going to punish you harshly!”




Imagine a place in the world where naughty girls are sent to learn the error of their ways by the use of traditional English discipline. The cane, spankings, corner time, and many more punishments.
Even better, imagine that there were hundreds and hundreds of these establishments spread across the globe, in a world wide society where the spanking of a naughty bottom was an essential part of a young lady’s upbringing. A place where naughty girls could just not help themselves getting into trouble, a place populated by the little minx.
One such establishment is the ‘Saint Helena Academy for Wayward Girls’ in Derbyshire, England.
And one such girl is Kate.
It’s funny how some girls can be good nearly all the time in this world, and only experience maybe one or two spankings in their whole life. These are good girls.
And others, like Kate are the opposite. Mischievous little imps who are always in trouble. It is a well known fact in this delightful make believe world that many girls get into trouble on purpose, because they crave discipline, and enjoy being kept in line. These are the bad girls.
Good girls love to see bad girls ‘get it’.
The bad girls hate the good girls, and find it humiliating to be punished before them.
The life of the ‘bad girl’ often leads them from one school to another, and eventually these women end up in an establishment like this, made to wear the easily recognisable ‘naughty girl outfit’. So that the population can help keep an eye on them, and report any wrong doings to the authorities.
Kate’s main crime throughout her life has been the need to masturbate in public.

The threat of being caught makes her orgasm extreme, and the joy she feels from not getting caught is immense. It is ‘one over’ the good girls.
Kate has only been in the academy for a week, and here she is wandering the corridors on Friday afternoon, she has a free period, to be used as study time.

She is looking for a suitable room to drop her knickers, and spread her legs.
And look, it seems she has found one…

The room was one very often used for detention, or special study and Kate found this delightfully naughty and daring. She slowly walked around the room, letting her fingers gently touch the desks.

Until she found one to sit at. She picked one next to the wall so she could not see anyone come in until the last second, which meant she would be caught for certain. This prospect excited her.

She looked around for the last time, and let fate decide. Her pussy was damp, so too were her white school knickers.

The room felt as if someone had wrapped it in cotton wool, she felt safe in her hushed surroundings and began to position herself.

“Good grief, I am so soppy down here.” She thought.

She held the palm of her left hand against her pussy and began to thrust slowly against it as she repeatedly said the words…

“Oh I am such a naughty girl, I need spanking!”

The word spanking, and the word naughty sent a ripple of delight through her groin. She needed to feel her panties come down and sense the vulnerability that the cool air would send over her unprotected bottom.


She began to chastise herself. “You naughty girl, take those panties down, bare your bottom for a spanking.”


She imagine a group of ‘good girls’ looking at her, pointing and teasing. She smiled at her wished for adversaries, and pulled her high waist pristine crisp white school knickers down some more.


Her bottom was now bare and she smacked it as she said loudly, “take that you naughty girl, and this!”

After each stinging smack she held her hand on her soft smooth cool skin! and it felt delightful. The need to masturbate grew in intensity, her knickers had to fall.

This was the point of no return, if she was caught here with no knickers on, with her record, it would be obvious what her intentions were.

Her delightful shapely bottom was bared. She looked at the hockey stick resting by her hand, it looked smooth and inviting.

She hung her freshly laundered, crisp white school knickers on the end of the hockey stick, sat back and opened her legs.

She began to finger her pussy, and rub her slippery clit.

With her eyes closed, she rubbed harder, and harder.

As her fingers slid in, she looked at the hockey stick again, lustily.

She unhooked her knickers, and placed them beside her at her school desk. She gently placed the blade of the hockey stick in position.

Her lips were well lubricated and it rubbed between them easily, and slid in as she began to let it fuck her cunt.

She could not get enough pressure so decided to straddle the blade and ride it.

She rode it hard, fast and loud as her orgasm approached, and then pushed down on the blade as she came, letting out a series of cries.

Slowly she removed herself from the sticky blade of the hockey stick, panting for breath. All was as quiet as when she entered. She pulled her knickers up and left.


The next day she told her friend Samantha about it as they stood talking in a corridor.

Samantha thought it sounded very daring so agreed to accompany her, and maybe do it together. So they went to the same room after their last lesson, knowing that plenty of after school clubs were running in the main block. So walking out of the gate later, free from suspicion should be easy.

It was quiet, just like the day before. Clocks ticked as did the radiators, and along with the sound of distant traffic, and a netball match, they were the only sounds.

They walked to the same desks.

Sat down and began to talk, quietly and sexily about masturbation.

Samantha was eager and was the first to start to play.

The excitement was almost too much, and her first orgasm hit straight away.

Kate smiled at her raunchiness, and thought that she had found a kindred spirit, someone to share her own orgasms with, and was soon rubbing a damp patch on her knickers.

“Oh God, I am so glad to have found someone like you! Take your knickers down, let me see you do it!” Cried Samantha.

Kate pulled her regulation white school knickers to her knees. Samantha stared at her pussy. “Finger your cunt Kate, go on, finger it fast!”

“Oh I love your bush too!” Exclaimed Samantha in delight.

They soon shared an orgasm, and began to talk some more, they felt safe and relaxed.

“Do you like looking at me masturbate Samantha?

“Oh yes, I have never watched another girl do it!”

“Would you like to see me shove something in?”

“Bloody hell, yes please…what?”

“Look in my briefcase.”

Samantha reached over and picked the bag up, put it closer to her and eagerly looked inside.

“What? In this plastic bag?”

“Yes, a banana!”

Samantha took it out excitedly.

“Here you are! Are you going to peel it?”

“God no! It might break, imagine going to the doctors with that! Please pass it here! I’m fucking desperate to get it in! I want to see you looking at me do it. Oh Samantha, I mean it, I have always wanted someone like you to!”

“Here you are, and yes!  I have always wanted a friend to watch! We were made to be friends Kate!”

“Push it in me Samantha, fuck me with it!”

Samantha held it gently and helped guide it in the wet slippery slit. The world around them faded from their senses, both were totally focussed on Kate’s pussy.

That was a mistake, because not too far away was Miss Black. She needed to count the desks in a room she used for exam re-sits. The room the two girls were in, was a room she often used. She could hear them, and crept to the door.

Completely, and blissfully unaware the girls carried on.

“Faster Samantha, fuck my cunt faster!”

“I will Kate, talk like that some more, like a dirty slut. Then I will get on my knees and let you fuck me with it!”

Miss Black stood looking through the window in the door, listening as she slowly opened it, to gently creep up on them.

For a few moments Miss Black was mesmerised as she watched two of her girls, masturbating with a banana, in an ‘Out of Bounds’ classroom.

They were almost shouting now, as the banana fucked harder and faster.

Pure filth fell from their lips as stealthily, and totally unnoticed Miss Black, like a cat stalking a bird, glided between the desks to pounce.

She coughed, as she stood just a few feet away from them, and both girls squealed in shock. Caught, the banana still fucking Kate’s cunt!

“You naughty NAUGHTY! Girls, you should be out of the school now! Technically you are trespassing! Here you are, as bold as brass, in an out of bounds room, masturbating! Samantha! Remove that fruit from Kate’s vagina, and close your mouth, you are not a cod fish!”

Wether it was her nerves, she wasn’t really sure, but Kate gave a giggle at the last remark. Miss Black did not like that at all!

“So you think this a laughing matter do you? Well, let me adjust your cavalier attitudes by putting half a dozen red lines across you bare bottoms! Come on, out you come!”

Suddenly the range of corporal punishment implements on the teacher’s desk became very apparent.

Both girls quaked as Miss Black picked up a very swishy cane, it was swaying gently, almost mocking them. “Let’s give  Mr Whippy an outing shall we?”

“Get yourselves bent over a desk apiece, right now young ladies! Although, listening to the disgusting filth that was pouring from your mouths just a few seconds ago, you are both anything but ladies!”

“Come on hurry up! No dilly dallying! Skirts up…now!”

Miss Black took a deep long breath and smiled wickedly. She loved her power, she loved girls bottoms and loved thrashing them even more! She took aim.

“Keep still Kate! Present that bottom properly! Heaven knows, you have had enough practice!”

Tap tap tap… went the rattan cane on that beautiful bare spankable schoolgirl bottom. Then…

THWAAAACK! Went the cane leaving a bright reddish purple line across both cheeks instantly.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!” Screamed Kate as Miss Black moved to take aim on Samantha’s ample, beautifully curved bottom.

She raised the cane and adjusted her stance and swiiiish!

The cane found its target brutally, as a resounding crack filled the classroom. The reputation of the formidable Miss Black had been well earned.

The cane slashed down like a sabre in the arm of a cavalry officer at Waterloo! The room was filled with the sound of swishing rattan, the cracks of cane on plump young buttocks and the desperate screams of two naughty girls getting what they richly deserved.

Whack, thwack! Went the cane.

The girls wriggled and squealed.

“Keep those bottoms up! Stop wriggling! Stop kicking!” Shouted the severe Miss Black.

“Please Miss Black! Please stop! Please!”

We are sorry, honest, please, please….stop owwwwwwwwww!”

“There is no stopping for naughty girls who madturbate in out of bounds classrooms my dear girls!” Thwack, whack, swiiish!

The thrashing carried on and on, pleading for it to stop and begging for mercy totally Ignored.

Eventually the end was reached, and two well striped very hot and sore bottoms were ordered to the front of the room, for corner time.

Both girls got up carefully, wincing at every move, as Miss Black pointed to the board with the cane.

Walking stiffly, holding back tears, the two girls eventually made the front.

“Put your noses to the projection screen, and hands on heads, come on! Quickly, do you want another three each?”

“Oh for God’s Sake girls! She walked and put them in position roughly, knowing that the pulling and strain on their muscles would be sending shockwaves of pain through their buttocks.

“Now stay there, and don’t you dare turn away from the screen, I have work to do, but will be watching you both intensely as I do! Understand?”

“Yes Miss Black…sniff.”

“Yes Miss Black…sniff.”

No girl had ever turned around, no girl had ever dared to even think of it, until today!

Miss Black settled at a desk, to look at their freshly punished bottoms, she loved them all, and as usual she began to masturbate, slowly and quietly, feeling safe. She had done this hundreds of times, and nobody had a clue.

Or so she thought, but rumours amongst the girls had been spoken of in gossip corners for ages. Punished girls had talked of wet sticky noises, and little moans coming from her.

The noises began, Miss Black wore stockings, and loose knickers, so access to her moist slit was easy, she began to rub her clit as she focussed on their cheeks.

Samantha whispered to Kate. “Listen.”

By now Miss Black was fingering her cunt hard, she was in the ‘ZONE’, she had passed the point of no return. The girls dared to turn and saw the orgasm face coming over Miss Black, her eyes locked on their bottom.

Miss Black had never thought that mobile phones could get so slim, Kate slid hers out of her breast pocket behind her badge and ‘CLICK, CLICK, CLICK’, she recorded an orgasmic, fingering, out of control Miss Black, who on seeing the girls looking had the best orgasm of her 55 years, and let out a huge moan.

“Oh girls! I’m cumming! Look at me fingering my cunt! Watch me!”

Had Miss Black really just said that? The prim and proper Miss Black! Swearing and masturbating too? Kate clicked and clicked, her ammunition of revenge grew by the second.

“Oh dear Miss Black, what have you done?” Said Kate.

“We have you now!” Said Samantha with glee.

“You have been a very naughty girl Miss Black, and we all know what happens to them don’t we! Get to the edge of the desk!” Shouted Kate as Samantha giggled

“We are going to punish you Miss Black!”

Miss Black put up no resistance, armed with those photos the girl’s could do as they wished. Her career could easily be in tatters if she pushed them into showing anyone. She could lose everything, including her reputation. So, like many of the girls she had thrashed over the years, all she could do was to submit, become compliant and take what was coming.

“Yes Miss Katie, yes Miss Samantha.”

Was she toying with them?

Was she being mockingly sarcastic?

Or…was she really submitting to a caning.

“Get over a desk and bare your bottom, you naughty girl!” Samantha spoke in a stern cold voice.

And she did, meekly.

“Time to Bare your bottom now girl!” Shouted Kate.

Miss Black did as she was told, and willingly let Kate slide her knickers down.

Whereupon they both proceeded to spank her bare bottom by hand!

The girls loved it, but wanted to get to the main event!

“Let’s see some stripes on her bottom like ours!” Shouted Kate.

So they began to cane her on her bare cheeks, Samantha first.

Then Kate took over. She was well known for her tennis skills. “Give her some of your aces Kate!” ShoutedSamantha gleefully.

“Oh I will, I will!” She replied as she took the cane. Her bottom was stinging like hell, and she wanted Miss Black’s to feel the same.

Samantha rested her chin on the palms of her upturned arms, watching close up as ripples ran through the soft flesh of Miss Black’s plump soft bare bottom, after every resounding thwack!

She screamed and howled time and time again as the cane landed hard and true.



“Now get up you naughty girl! Go to the front of the class!”

Miss Black could hardly move, and sobbing she straightened, to make her way to ‘corner time’, to stand in shame.

In a dishevelled state, she stood there, sniffing back her tears. “Put your hands on your head!” Ordered a very strict Kate.

“Yes and let’s have your bare bottom on show!” Added Samantha.

Miss Black turned to them and smiled…

“Thank you girls. I have dreamed of this for years!”

The girls said they had loved it too!

What followed surprised and delighted them all…

The girls began to masturbates again.


do you know what?

Miss Black joined it. Together in that little room a unique relationship was born.




The April Fool

Hello, welcome back, sit down, put the kettle on….enjoy.

In a small market town in the Cotswolds is a firm of accountants, ‘Jones and Sons’. They have existed for 150 years and pride themselves on top quality customer service. Indeed, the Company motto, which is always embossed on the top of every letter, using fine quality cartridge paper reads as follows.

“The Old Ways are Our Ways, you The Customer…Always Come First.”

They meant every word when they came up with the logo, and they still do. Attention to detail was and is paramount. Presentation, from the smallest business letter, to the appearance of the Board Room for a meeting has to be perfect.

Modern ways are used of course, they have to be, to compete in this electronic age, but staff numbers are large, and time can be taken for everything to be ‘just so.’

So the business gives the image of a 1950’s customer orientated, caring and honest environment.

The lady in charge of all this finery in business is Mrs Rowena Jones, the wife of the Managing Director, Rupert Jones. She takes pride in everything she does, especially her appearance.

A beautiful lady, respected and adored by all. She is the ‘face’ of Senior Management.

Although the middle echelons of the management can afford to be friendly with their staff, the rest of Senior Management are expected to be aloof.

So Rowena is the bridge between the two. Everything is reported back to Mr. Jones and his ‘level’ in the company by her, and she has an uncanny knack of drip feeding information back the other way to exactly where it should go.

She is the beating heart of  ‘Jones and Sons’.

The standing of the company is high in the local community. To work there is a ‘feather in your cap’, and an excellent line to have written on your C.V.

And so it was that Samantha, a young woman with excellent qualifications, and until recently Head Girl of the Cotswold High School for Girls was feeling justly proud of herself. She had started six months ago, and had proved to be very useful, especially in the I.T. area.

Yesterday morning however she had done something a little cheeky, and quite daring. This is something she is good at, and had got away with many times at school and at home. And guiltily she had sometimes felt excited and aroused when another schoolgirl or maybe a cousin had been punished for it. Being privy to many corporal punishment sessions as Head Girl had left a lasting impression on her.

She had sneaked into the boardroom and taken a selfie, which today she duly sent to her Mum, and close friends, in a text message.

It read…’These are the famous curtains in Jones and Sons Boardroom! Purchased from India at the height of the Britich Empire, costing hundreds of pounds even then. Hey everybody! I have arrived!…lol’

Here is the photo which she sent in the text message.

This was the day that things began to go wrong for naughty Samantha and it was this simple text which started it all, the first domino in a chain of  unfortunate events.

The first reply  to the text was from Mummy. ‘Be careful dear, you know how your daring adventurous ways got you into trouble at home and at school a couple of times as a young girl!’

Samantha smiled ruefully at her phone and patted her rather shapely bottom as she recalled the consequences. ‘Yes Mummy! Your naughty teenager has grown up now and has learned her lesson from all her bare bottom spankings!’ She text back these words to Mummy, but the silly girl was not as clever as she thought. She always did these things far to quickly.

The message was sent to Mummy and the same group of her ‘favourites’, saved on her phone, to whom she had sent the selfie.

Most of these were old school chums, and mostly Prefects, who had all shared their spanking experiences with each other anyway.

But one was a new friend, Katie, who although liked Samantha a great deal, had got fed up of her constant ‘showing off ‘ about her IT skills to everyone.

She too worked at Jones and Sons.

Both texts duly arrived on her phone, and we’re very enlightening.

Katie smiled wickedly, she was very much a spanking lover, especially from the viewpoint of the Spanker. The thought of  seeing Samantha’s bottom bright pink and sore appealed to her, but even more so was the thought of seeing her humiliated. It was the humiliation through spanking that ‘tickled her fancy’, and as she read the text, her ‘fancy’ went decidedly  damp!

She knew from experience that the tears shed by a spanked girl were not just from the pain, but more so from the humiliation they had felt, and still felt, as they did corner time, especially before her peers.

She began to plot.

Slowly over the next few days a plan was created. She had easy access to the stationery cupboard, and acquired some paper, which she embossed on the old black and gold enamelled hand operated, stout, metal, embossing machine. It always delivered a satisfying thump as it did its job.

Then she began to practice Mr Jones signature! Both at home in her apartment, and when work threw up one of those quiet moments.

Once she was happy with it, she waited and watched Samantha, whose pride was growing daily. It culminated in her telling a group, of which Katie was a member, just how she had saved the company lots of money with her I.T. Skills and how it was only a matter of time before she was in charge of that area and introducing training for them all in her cleverly developed programmes. It seems that some letters had been sent to some very important clients asking them to take part in a trial of Samantha’s new idea, to be run and analysed by Rowena. This was her big chance to impress, she felt sure the results of the trial would bring promotion. That would grant her enough money for her first car, and she wanted a really good one.

Kate soon picked up on two universally known things about Samantha.

One, was that all the staff thought she was very good at her job and admired her skills.

The other, confirmed by many of Kate’s instigated conversations, was that although everyone thought she was a pleasant enough girl, they all wanted to see her bought down a peg or two. As Ian, the Accounts Manager put it,…’she needs to learn how to be more modest, a little humility would not go amiss’. Kate shared his office.

Rowena began to see very positive results come back from the clients in the trial, but she had her finger on the pulse of the workforce as always and knew that too much praise heaped on Samantha would not be a good thing right now.

She knew her staff very well, and knew something for certain. They would bring Samantha down a peg or two and teach her respect and empathy, especially for some of the long serving staff, who did not need a ‘schoolgirl’ to keep telling them how marvellous she was.

Although she had a lovely office on the floor with the rest of management at her level, she also had one on the second floor, quite close to the accounts department. She felt that in that office, she was at the ‘hub of the wheel’.

Kate was the one who came up with a superb plan.

She wrote a letter to Samantha, on Company paper, and signed it to make it seem that Mr Jones had written it. It read as follows…

Miss S.Pickering.

I am writing to inform you that disciplinary action is being taken against you for a great error on your part.

I  have had three valued customers telling me that they have received vital information about other customers in both e-mail, and , much worse, letters printed on our Company paper.

This highly confidential information has been put on social media to show just how inept we are in this modern world.

You have disgraced both yourself and our Company. If it was left to me you would be dismissed without references but my wife has pleaded your case. It appears that she goes to the same Church as your Mummy. Your Mummy has told us quite clearly how she dealt with you and that a dose of the same here, might teach you a valuable lesson.

Mrs Jones offers you this choice.


1) Bring a letter of resignation to her, in her ground floor office in the morning.


2) Put your old school uniform on, including the navy blue school knickers your Mummy has told us about, (which it seems you despise) and report to her dressed as such, first thing, also  to her floor office, for a liberal dose of corporal punishment.

Please indicate your choice below, and hand this letter to Mrs Jones on reporting to her SECOND FLOOR office.

A flamboyant signature followed, written above a typed Mr. jones.

Kate went in early the next day and placed the envelope in Samantha’s ‘in tray’.

She watched interestedly, with a wicked smile on her face as Samantha walked in, bright and breezy, to sit down to open her mail, she soon got to what looked like an important letter.

Katie had got quite a lot of invoices for the I.T. Department so waited there for Samantha to open  her mail as the kettle boiled. She studied  her as the colour drained from her face.

“Can you come up to see me and Ian soon, we have a couple of invoice queries to sort. See you in a bit, I am going to get our kettle on too!”

Samantha sat stupefied, she read the letter again, and again. How could this have happened? She had done it all herself, “Oh no! I must have somehow got them in the wrong envelopes! And the e-mails too, oh dearie me, how did I send the wrong ones to the wrong people. Awwww! I have messed up badly!”

Samantha was in shock, and needed to go to the toilet, the horrid letter had loosened her bowels.

Kate followed her with her eyes as she rushed to the toilet.

Then she followed her with her eyes again later, as she came to see Ian, obviously in distress and not really concentrating on the job at hand, she observed her closely, and spoke to her. “Morning Samantha, isn’t it a lovely day? I wonder what miracles of modern technology you will find to make our Company shine today? We do think you are wonderful!”

Ian looked over at Kate puzzled.

Samantha tried to smile and said nothing, as she buried her head into the invoices Ian had presented her with. Ian looked to kate again and Kate winked at him.

She put a finger to her lips and silently mouthed the words ‘tell you later’.

The day went horribly slow for Samantha.

The day went delightfully slow for Kate as she studied Samantha whenever she could.

At five o’clock she watched her go home. Kate was pretty sure she would go for option two, but even if she didn’t Mrs Jones would read the letter and being astute as she was, would know that Samantha was being taught a lesson.

Kate walked over to Ian before she left. “This is between me and you. The little smarty pants is going to be put in her place, get here early tomorrow….Goodnight.”

Ian said he would, he was very curious. He ran after her and they walked to the car park together, talking quietly but excitedly. The plan was told to Ian in great detail, much to his amazement. “Fantastic Kate! If this works it will be utterly amazing and just what the haughty little madam needs! Well done you!”.

Samantha had not passed her driving test yet, so after a bus journey she reached her home in a dejected mood. Her apartment was bright, modern and cheerful but did nothing to lift her spirits. She remembered the humiliation of being spanked, the feel of the eyes on her private places. The ever increasing sting. The sounds. It was bad enough before Mummy and sometimes her friends, but to bare her bottom before Mrs.Jones!

How would she do it?  She wondered. Over her knee?

The strange feeling of  mixed emotions settled on her. Fear, dread and embarrassment. Coupled with a slight hint of sexual excitement.

Her school uniform, including her ghastly navy blue knickers were in her spare room. She went up and got them out, arranging each item neatly on the unmade bed. She could not fit into her school blouse, but was sure she would find something, maybe the grey shirt she had worn for work today would work.

“Oh damn, everything was going so well! I can’t believe I have been so stupid. I couldn’t even find the copies of the e-mails I sent out, God knows what I did with them, I’m sure I saved them.” She sat down with a sulk, and stared at her uniform.

A certain triumphant dark haired young lady, sat drinking red wine with her spaghetti bolognaise in her apartment on the other side of town knew exactly what had happened to the e-mails.

The anticipation of tomorrow excited her, she went to bed early, naked, after a long soak in the bath.

She imagined being Samantha, and as one hand smacked her bottom as she lay on her tummy, the other rubbed her clit, until she came, gently bobbing up and down, then she drifted to sleep. She was ready for an early night.

Slowly Samantha undressed, and stood naked, looking at the uniform. She put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, and a thought struck her. The bus journey to and from work! In school uniform!

Soon everything was put back on the bed, she showered and spent a fitful night tossing and turning. She went through imaginary spankings  at the hand of Mrs.Jones time after time until sleep finally came.

The alarm went off. For a few delightful moments everything seemed fine. Then she remembered.

After reading the letter yet again, she wrote on the bottom of it that she would accept a spanking, and popped it back in its envelope. The office of choice was the second floor one.

Breakfast was just a slice of toast and a cup of strong coffe, she dressed in her school uniform, took a deep breath, and left the house. Setting off twenty minutes early so as to miss the usual people in the usual places, and catch an earlier bus seemed to work. It was not that long since school and some of the looks she got lifted her spirits slightly.

Samantha began to think of different routes she could possibly take to Mrs.Jones office as she approached the main door. She walked into her place of employment bravely.

The letter said to report straight to her work office on the second floor if she chose the spanking option, in school uniform, so resigned to her fate she made her way. Maybe this had happened before and people would not be too surprised. Her hopes in that direction soon shattered, firstly when the receptionist burst into laughter, and then when she made her way up the short set of stairs  from the reception foyer to lifts.

Here she found the electrician working on the ceiling lights. At the moment she passed he was on his knees stripping wire, he just gazed silently, mouth open as she climbed by him.

She continued towards the lift, hoping that not too many would be waiting. She heard the electrician speak to the receptionist and laugh, but kept her eyes forward.

On reaching the lift, she pressed the button and waited. “Oh why did I have to wear my uniform so short!” She said to herself.

To her horror she could hear voices in the right hand lift as it approached.

So quickly she moved to the other lift, trying to act normal and look insignificant.

She felt so silly as four people came out, staring at her and obviously stifling their laughter. In a slight panic she never thought to walk in! The lift doors closed.

So she waited for the next lift, which arrived empty.

She walked into that one.

She arrived on the floor where both her office, the accounts and Mrs.Jones work-place office were located. Needing just a couple of minutes to compose herself she went to her own office first, sorted a couple of things, turned and came back out on to the corridor.

Kate walked up behind her as she was coming out. “Hello, good grief, what on earth do you have that on for?”

Samantha blushed, kept quiet and politely pushed straight by Kate.

Unfortunately, straight into Ian.

Similar comments were exchanged but she decided the best way forward was just get this over with. She proceeded to Mrs.Jones office.

Rowena was sat in her office drinking a cup of tea, which like her Mother used to say, ‘set her up for the day’. Of course she had no idea of the letter or what was heading her way. Samantha was far from her mind, as she switched on her computer.

Samantha was in a focussed state, she just wanted to get it over with and then somehow rebuild her reputation. She knocked on the door and upon invitation walked in.

Ian and Kate were always one corridor corner behind her, on the short journey to Rowena’s work office.

They had seen her walk confidently as if a nineteen year old at work in a gymslip was a common occurrence.

They saw her peers pass by and giggle, soon filling them in on what was happening. News spread.

Rowena stood staring at this beautiful young woman in her gym slip, white socks and straw hat, stood thrusting a letter at her.

She took the letter.

Even if she had wanted to say something, Samantha did not give her a chance. With the impetuousness of youth she went straight in to what she wanted to say.

“Mrs.Jones, I know I have made a huge mistake. Thank you for not sacking me! I am so grateful for still being here. I want you to spank me on my bare bottom just as my Mummy used to, but worse! Show me no mercy, spank me for as long and hard as you like, please, I will try better honestly, please spank me!”

To Mrs.Jones amazement, Samantha took her knickers down, slowly, as she sat and read the letter.

Nervously Samantha’s thumbs tucked into the elastic and tugged…

Bit by bit, until in a flash they slipped over her cheeks…

All the way down her attractive shapely thighs to her knees…

Down to her ankles…

By the time the knickers reached her shoes,  Rowena had read the letter, and understood exactly what was happening. She also understood that fate had delivered her a young, firm, willing bare bottom to spank as hard as she liked. She was not going to let the opportunity pass by.

Samanth took the regulation knickers off, and began to speak again, following on from where she left off. Breathing quite fast she swallowed hard, and continued…” As hard as you like. My Mummy usually used her hand or slipper, but sometimes the hairbrush,  or even a cane. I need teaching a long hard lesson on my bare upturned bottom, in any way you please.

Samantha passed the knickers to her superior.

And then to Rowena’s complete amazement, she fell to her knees to beg.


But not for mercy, …for her punishment, to atone, so she could start afresh.

“Please Mrs.Jones, do it, spank me, teach me a lesson.”

“You have obviously been a naughty girl.” Said Mrs.Jones as she wagged her finger.

Samantha nodded, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Rowena realised at this point that here was a girl, who, in every sense of the word NEEDED a spanking.

“Get up to your feet you naughty girl.”

Holding the knickers between her fingers before Samantha’s eyes,  she continued. “These are a traditional pair of school knickers, and not intended to be worn by girls of your age. Who work for a living. You should be ashamed of yourself, being so naughty that you have to dress up like this and have to pass me your regulation school knickers,  to leave your bottom bare for a good spanking! How old are you? Fourteen?”

So, knowing how much Samantha hated those knickers, Mrs.Jones taunted her with them, making her look at them as she swung them too and fro before her eyes. “These are still warm from your bottom being in them, but trust me, your bottom is going to be much, much, MUCH hotter soon!”

“Yes Mrs.Jones, I am a naughty girl, I deserve a hot bottom.”

Samantha continued. “Please Mrs. jones, please give me a spanking, punish me, be my work Mummy and make my bottom glow, I won’t take no for an answer , I will not leave until I have been made to kick, squeal, and cry! Oh Mrs.Jones.”

“For God’s sake, shut up girl! I will indeed spank you, just stand quietly, hands by your side.”

Mrs Jones read the letter again and put the navy blue knickers on the desk. She leaned over and picked up a green plastic ruler. She realised what had happened, and just could not resist going along with everything. “Very well, seeing as you are so desperate for a spanking, come over my knee right now young lady! Tuck your gym slip into your tie around your waist.”

Under the gaze of Ian and Kate, and by now quite a few more, looking through the door window, she pulled her chair from the back of the desk, and sat down. “Over you come, make your bottom pert for me.”

Rowena pulled out her red office chair.

Outside the office Ian and Kate could not believe the speech that Samantha had given. The crowd grew, news was spreading fast. This was working better than their wildest dreams. Kate was agog, fascinated by what was happening, and Samantha’s pert bottom.

Samantha moved into position, by the side of Mrs.Jones lap, and began to bend over.

The crowd watched silently, Kate let the door swing open silently, to afford a better view. Here was the girl with attitude, the girl who was haughty, the one who had annoyed so many, dressed in school uniform, going over Mrs.Jones knee, for a bare bottom spanking, her beautiful blonde hair swirling.

“Get yourself settled and present your bottom young lady!”

The spanking began!

Mrs.Jones looked at the sight before her. A beautifully presented ripe young firm rump, begging to be spanked. She gripped the girl tightly around the waist and began. No mercy was asked for so none was given. The pale green, one and a half inch wide, eighteen inch long drawing ruler struck with full force. She struggled to climb away as she remembered just how painful a spanking with an implement was, but Rowena pulled her back easily and hit even harder.

The girl let out a shriek like a howling wolf and before she could compose herself the next smacks, which echoed like pistol shots, left hot searing Crimson lines that soon joined together to redden her whole bare bottom.

Again the girl let out more high pitched screeches akin to some wild animal.

Mrs.Jones (urged on by the loud screams coming from Samantha,  and the sight of the two bright crimson  cheeks on a perfectly formed bucking and wiggling bottom), began to tighten her grip and quicken the pace of the crisp resounding smacks. Samantha’s face screwed up tight. But she could do nothing to stop the shrill ear piercing squeals coming from between her ruby red lips.




The squeals could probably be heard outside.

The crowd of co-workers delighted in the noise building to a crescendo, interspersed with louder and louder, faster and faster smack, spank, crack, whack of the unforgiving ruler.

Her legs kicked and her waist bucked like a bronco,  but the strength of Mrs.Jones was surprising. She told her to get up and bend over the desk, which she did quickly, the pace of the spanking hardly slowing, and her legs still kicking at the knees.

” You are going to remember this for a very long time young lady! And so too will the work force!”

Samantha looked to the now wide open door, the people had spilled inside, she was getting a very public spanking!

Rowena spotted  that Samantha was expecting the blows to her cheeks in rhythm, so varied the blows, three on the left, one on the right, five on the left, six across both!

The poor girl had no idea where the next one was to land, she screamed and begged for it to stop, promising to be a good girl. Which delighted the onlookers and they clapped, and cheered the spanking along.

Her bottom got the thrashing of its life.

Samantha squealed and writhed, begging for the punishment to stop.

So stop it did.

The bottom before the audience was as red as a beetroot.

“Well done Mrs.Jones she needed that!” And similar comments were shouted out as they all stood clapping once again. Samantha’sface was as red as her bottom in humiliation.

“Now stand up you silly girl.”

She jumped up, both hands clasped on her buttocks, her legs doing some kind of dance like a fancy Irish Jig, she almost ran around as if trying  to escape a blow torch on her bottom.

“Now apologise to the staff for being a cocky, haughty, little brat, and promise to grow up and behave like an adult at work, and not a silly naughty schoolgirl!

Gripping her bottom and rubbing furiously she did so…

Blushing, with tears on her cheeks she spoke quietly. “I am ever so sorry for being a naughty girl. I deserved my spanking before you all…sniff. I will behave better, be more polite, and respectful to my elders in particular. If ever I am naughty again I will accept another spanking before you all. But most of all, I am sorry for my huge mistake.”

The staff burst into laughter and Mrs.Jones explained.

“Look at this signature! Can you not see it is not real? Look at the date on the calendar, it is April the first! You are good at your job Samantha, but do you really need to show off and belittle your elders? Grow up! You are at work now, not a silly school girl. But believe me! I am going to buy a cane, and if you ever, that is EVER act like one again I will cane you in the corridor, or the dining room for everyone to see! Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to teach you a valuable lesson. Now get back to work, and behave like an adult!”

Samantha began to pull her gym slip down. “Stop! You can spend the rest of the day doing your duties with that tied up, and your naughty red, swollen, bottom on show!”

“Awwww.” Samantha walked through her peers with her bottom on show, to begin work. It was going to be a long embarrassing day Samantha ran out red faced and ashamed to meet a large crowd of her peers on the corridor, most of them laughing and pointing. Her gym slip was still up as she ran past them holding her bottom.

She began to do her duties in a quiet area…

Then, after her eyes dried up, she decided to brave working around the staff. Every single one was nice, she had paid her penalty, promised to behave better, and had taken her punishment well really, despite all the kicking and squealing.

Especially Ian, who was always a kinder older gentleman, he asked if she was alright. She replied ‘yes’ and blushed profusely. Whilst he enjoyed the view.



Then after a couple of other places she tried working near Katie, having no idea that it was her who hat devised the plot. She too was kind and respectful. In a strange way, she enjoyed all the looks and attention.


Her navy blue knickers were still on Mrs.Jones desk, Samantha thought about where they were, but decided to keep a low profile.

So Samantha did her job stood up all day, with no knickers on. Her red sore bottom on show every time she bent over. Much to everyone’s amusement,

The plan seemed to have worked. A good spanking and a liberal dose of humiliation once again had been proven to work.

She went home on the bus stood up.

She masturbated four times that night, in her school uniform, but no knickers. The knickers ended up somewhere else…

The next day nobody said a word, and never did, until April Fools Day, every year. When she came to work in her school uniform, to report to Mrs.Jones for any attitude adjustment needed.!

As for the knickers. She never asked for them, but let me tell you a secret…

The night of the spanking Mrs.Jones wore them, as she masturbated to the best orgasm of her life! You see, she found them on her desk and put them in her handbag.

She took them home, and tried them on.


They felt wonderful and made her feel magnificent, naughty, and young.

“Oh Samantha, I WISH YOU WERE HERE NOW!” I want to spank you, again!”

Then she masturbated hard…

The End.