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The Unusual Punishment of a Naughty Victorian Maid

The girl had become somewhat lax in her duties, and her Mistress had decided that at the next sign of her lackadaisical ways she would take action. She had watched her closely, and knew that the dreamy girl often rested in the study.

She understood that being a maid was a busy job, but she knew that the girl was taking liberties. She needed reining in.

Mistress found her asleep on a chaise lounge, when she should have been beeswaxing the wood in the room. Lady Kenworthy seized her opportunity and pulled out her riding crop from behind her back. “Caught you!”

The girl, still half asleep was taken aback, and stood up quickly.

Lady Kenworthy briskly pulled the little rocking horse, which was hers as a young girl, out from the place it stood, often with an aspidistra on top. It had great sentimental value, and an erotic past.

You see, it was on this little horse at a tender age, that Lady Kenworthy discovered the delights of rocking back and forth on it with a little extra pressure on her pussy. Indeed, her first orgasm was achieved on it, and her second third and fourth on the same day!

This punishment was not an impulsive action on the part of Lady Kenworthy, she had thought long and hard over the last few weeks, and fantasised about spanking her maid to orgasm on it!

“imagine that!” She thought to herself, and last night had achieved the climax of self arousal thinking about what was quite possibly going to happen, right now.

“Right young lady! (The maid was only three years younger than her Mistress, but such was the way of things in 1874) ….You have a choice. You can either accept corporal punishment, on my beloved Neddy here, or leave. But one thing is for sure, you are not going to carry on in this ‘come day go day’ manner any longer! What is it to be? Hmmmm??”

The girl said she did not want to leave.

And so she began to straddle the little horse.

“Lift your uniform and petticoats, I want that bottom bare!”

‘….awwww, yes, yes Mistress.’

Holding her under garments up, Mistress began to lower the girl’s bloomers.

To bare a fine plump victorian rump, just ripe for a thrashing!

The sight of those soft round globes of delicate flesh aroused Lady Kenworthy, and she spanked the girl.

Then, pushing the girl down, she told her to rock, as she whacked the crop on her fine buttocks repeatedly. The girl galloped like she was on a country chase!

Soon, Lady Kenworthy was swinging the crop with all her might!

The girl squealed and bucked, her back pressing against the moist excited pussy of her Mistress, whilst her own dripping wet slit pushed hard on to the now warm smooth mahogany horse. Rocking violently beneath her.

Both reached a shuddering orgasm together. And the horse slowed to a trot.

Both knew without doubt that the other had climaxed.

As Lady Kenworthy stood, she knew she had to stamp her authority over her girl quickly….

“I have not finished with you yet, pull your bloomers up, and get over my knee, right now!”

The crop was viscious in its landing on the rump of her maid, as her fine bottom pushed through the open back bloomers.

A lesson was learned by both.

Naughty behaviour has its rewards….a magnificent orgasm!

The girl developed into an extremely naughty maid, and Mistress was so pleased!

 

Deborah’s Daughter

Deborah was a well respected member of the local community. She presented herself and her house well. But…

She he had a very haughty, naughty, wilful, headstrong daughter.

Charlotte.

‘Naughty Charlotte’ as she was known to everyone. “I am glad she is not mine!” Was an often heard phrase. “It needs someone like Deborah to keep a girl like that in line!” Was another.

Living close by would be a spanking enthusiast’s dream!

I can hear a commotion now! Let’s go and see what all the fuss is about…

Oh dear, she has been caught smoking, again. In the outside privy this time!

“You naughty girl! Don’t bother pulling your knickers up, it’s the hairbrush again for you, young lady! Come here!”

Charlotte was pulled by the ear to the windowsill.

Where, much to the girls (who lived each side), and the two boys (who lived behind) delight, she got spanked with the hairbrush (Mummy’s favourite implement).

“Noooo Mummy, everyone will hear owwwwwwwwww, ooooooh!”

Laughter, from the neighbours, could be heard through the screams, whacks, and yelps, but it was short lived, because it  began to rain hard.

Mummy dragged her inside. “They will still hear your squeals Charlotte, I am leaving the door open!”

Once inside, the spanking really began!

A protesting, kicking, squealing Charlotte was pulled over Mummy’s knee for a jolly good, long, hard, bare over the knee, domestic spanking.

A naughty gir learned a very, very, sharp, painful lesson!

This is what every naughty girl needs! A good old fashioned disciplinarian. A mother who is not afraid to whack her naughty bottom long and hard, whenever it is needed.

Picture the scene  in the dimly lit 1960’s house, the kicking legs, the firm grip, the wriggling red cheeks!

A proper good old fashioned spanking!

But did Charlotte learn?

No!

The very next day! Can you believe it? Naughty Charlotte was caught smoking in the toilets and was sent home in disgrace. Mummy was contacted at the cafe she worked at, and stormed home to find her naughty disgraced daughter trembling in the hallway.

“Oh you are in for it this time young lady!”

She immediately bent her over, by the stairs, with the front door still open!

WHACK!

“Owwwwwwoooooooowwwwwwwwoooooohhhh!”

“You naughty naughty girl!”

THWWWWWWACK

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhooooooooowwwwwwowwwwowwwwowwwww!”

Soon there was quite a crowd at the gate, watching the spectacle! However, once the humiliation part of her punishment it was time to go upstairs. “Get up to your room!”

The power in the hairbrush and her demeanour was tangible.

Once upstairs, Charlotte knew the drill, it was time to sit with the cane in her mouth, to wait. This wait was a ‘calculated wait’ , a different length every time. Charlotte sat in dread listening for a creak on the stairs.

After half an hour the tell tale creak was heard, steps got closer and the door slowly opened.

Mummy took the cane and stood behind her, cane raised. “You have excelled yourself today haven’t you madam?”

Charlotte stood up and bent over without a word being said. Hoping that obedience and a well presented bottom might impress her.

Mummy grabbed the hairbrush again.

“Silly girl, nothing will save you! The boys are in their garden! I am going to open the window so they can hear! Get over there girl!”

“Hands on your head!”

“But they can see my twinkle!”

“Shut up!”

Smack smack smack! The heavy wooden brush fell at speed. Charlotte saw the boys looking, and tried not to make a fuss, but soon she was screaming and pleading for mercy. She received none whatsoever.

“Turn around, bottom to the window!”

Then it was back to the mirror, ‘to see her own shame!’

Finished with a dose of corner time, back down in the living room. “Your Aunty Liz and Amber are coming for tea, we are having shepherd’s pie. You are having bread and jam! You can stay there throughout our meal! Now…you can rub!”

Did this cure her wanton behaviour?

No, of course not. I went by tonight and heard a voice shout, ‘No no no Mummy! Not the belt!

I wonder what she has done this time?

Some girls never learn!

I’m so pleased!

Asa

The Girl on the Stool

Last night in your girlfriend’s bedroom you had a sexy conversation about spanking, she confessed that she wants to be spanked often and masturbates about it all the time.

Of course, you were delighted and said that you did too. You gave her a little spanking, but her Mum and Dad were downstairs, so nothing heavy.

However, she said she would try to get spanked in class tomorrow!

The next day dawns and true enough she is naughty all day! At 3.30 p.m. She was called out to the front by Miss Kenworthy, and made to bend over before the class.

To her surprise and your delight, it was on the bare!

Sat at your desk, your cock almost lifted the wooden legs off the floor!

it was a good spanking, her bottom was red by the end of it.

She was made to stand before the projection screen, you could hardly take your eyes off of her bottom.

You could resist no longer, and taking a huge risk you began to masturbate under the desk, hand in pocket, which had a hole, flicking wet slippery tip back and forth with your finger tips, a handkerchief wrapped around its glistening purple head.

Before you, just feet away was the humiliation stool.

For the last ten minutes she was made to sit on it. Other girls giggled, but the boys were in awe.

She looked at you and winked. She knew what you were doing, and sniggered.

“Turn around! Face your naughty bottom to the class, and be quiet! Unless you want a couple with the cane!” Shouted Miss Kenworthy.

She turned. You rubbed harder and faster, feeling the sperm begin to rise.

And you shot your load into the handkerchief.

Nobody knew.

Just us…..

…naughty you!

A Managerie of Naughty Girls – a series of short stories.

Some naughty girls need their own accounts of their time at my school.

Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls.

Please, come and meet some…a selection of naughty school girl stories.

Here is the first…

One of the girls who got punished the most was Lucy, she wasn’t the naughtiest, she would never steal, bully, do damage or be peevish. But she was an annoying little brat! Cheeky, quick with a sarcastic comment, challenging, defiant and always thought she was right!

One day Miss Kenworthy got so annoyed with her constant answering back and cheek that she lost her temper and made all the class stand at the back of the room, whilst she thrashed Lucy’s bare bottom with a plimsol!

She made her get over a stool and told all the class she was going to make an example of her. She whacked and whacked her bottom full force with the thick rubber soled plimsol for a good five minutes. The whacks echoed around the room.

Lucy tried her hardest not to make a fuss, but by the end she was crying, squealing and begging for mercy!

Miss Kenworthy bent over and told her that next time it would be the tawse!

All the girls had a crush on Miss Kenworthy after that.

Lucy could not sit down for the rest of the day, and how the girls giggled and tormented her.

But it made little or no difference to the troublesome little minx. In fact, it became a challenge, almost a battle of wits between a formidable, beautiful disciplinarian and a brat.

As we spanking aficionados know, there could be only one winner.

Just one week to the day, in the same lesson on the weekly timeable, the brat and Miss Kenworthy faced each other again. Like some kind of duel on a dusty street in some old Wild West town, they eyed each other as they walked into class. Miss Kenworthy full of menace and serious. Lucy full of brash bravado, showing off to her friends. Which she continued to do for another fifteen minutes, constantly being told to behave.

As the class went on, the room became full of atmosphere. Then at 2 o’clock Miss Kenworthy walked to her tan leather briefcase and withdrew a Tawse.

“I am warning you Lucy. Do not test me any further.”

The radiators gently hummed as the hot water ran through the cast iron pipes. The old oak clock ticked away. Rain and hail pelted the high windows.

Lucy sat arms folded, doing nothing.

When asked why, she became rude and arrogant. She overstepped the mark, deliberately. “I am fed up, I’m not absolutely sure you know this subject well enough to teach it.”

She expected Miss Kenworthy to explode, but instead a calmness fell upon her. “Everyone back to the walls like last week please. You young lady have been impertinent and very offensive to my professional reputation. I do know the subject. This will not develop into a discussion Lucy. I am going to give you twelve with the tawse. Out here now! Bare your bottom, and bend over the stool.”

Out came Lucy, she smiled to the class. They could not decide wether to admire her, or think her stupid. But every one of the twenty two girls stood watching, was glad she was ‘getting it’ again.

Some through contempt, some through desire, some simply because they wanted to see a bottom get the tawse.

As she bent over, every girl stared at her beautiful bare bottom. They all agreed on this. It was indeed, soft and beautifully shaped.

Then the thrashing began. The leather cracked like a pistol, as Lucy’s cheeks wobbled. She held her position as Miss Kenworthy let her have it without any mercy.

Miss Kenworthy looked to the pale faced onlookers, the severity of the thrashing had made some feel queasy. They all lowered their eyes as she looked at them.

She circled Lucy about five times, listening to her wimper and looking at the red swellings rise.

“Class dismissed. Up you get Lucy. Off you go.”

Miss Kenworthy was being very clever, using few words and keeping things simple. Lucy began to feel a little unsettled. All the other teachers would have ranted and raved by now, but this woman, this beautiful dominant woman full of authority was the opposite, calm and collected. Like a snake.

Another week passed, and another, and another, each week getting slowly more and more extreme. Miss Kenworthy grew to admire the girls resilience, and in return, Lucy almost fell in love with this Godess of Discipline.

There was only one route for this to take. THE CANE!!!

First of all the traditional ‘crook’ handled school cane.

It started with twelve of the best.

Then eighteen.

Then twenty four.

Yet still the battle went on, and end of term, the time for Lucy to leave, was approaching.

This girl needed bringing to her knees, and beyond, so Miss Kenworthy hung up the traditional rattan, and purchased a dragon cane. A girl only had to look at the swaying flexible weapon of bottom destruction to feel pain. It was a terrifying disciplinary tool.

But finally it got the result, it bought her to her knees, squealing at the top of her voice, saying sorry! At last.

Did it end there? No!

Miss Kenworthy decided on some private humiliation for Lucy.

enter…. The Head girl

This is the next story, (or part two of this)

The Head Girl of Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls was a well presented young lady, very polite and correctly spoken.

She was loved by the staff, and mistrusted by the girls. She was a teacher’s pet, who told tales and delighted in seeing a naughty girl get punished before he, especially if she had reported her. Which was very often the case.

Soon after Lucy had ‘bent the knee’ the Head Girl reported her to Miss Kenworthy for taking items from the stationery cupboard.

Over the years a rumour had grown and grown amongst the schoolgirls. It was that sometimes, just to see them spanked, she would make a story up about them.

Lucy accused her of lying when confronted by Miss Kenworthy.

However Miss Kenworthy would hear nothing of it. “I trust our Head Girl implicitly, how dare you accuse her of lying! She is above reproach. For that, I am going to punish you before her!”

The Head Girl began to cry…”I am only doing my best to keep naughty horrid girls like Lucy in line Miss….sniff, and she says I am lying, it is so unfair, I’m a good girl, I don’t lie….sob, sniff.”

“I know you are a good girl, now you apologise to your superior Lucy!”

“Apologise to that lying, two faced toe rag! No way! She should be bending over for me!”

“Lucy!! Shut up! Ohhh you have done it now you disgraceful girl!”

“We will begin with a bare bottom spanking, get over my knee young lady!”

The Head Girl dried her tears, and sat at the desk.

Miss Kenworthy turned to the Head Girl, “Would you pass me the hairbrush, it is just behind you on the desk.”

“Of course Miss, anything to help.” Replied a delighted Head Girl.

She then witnessed the spectacle of Miss Kenworthy in full merciless flow with a heavy hairbrush on tender young flesh.

“Oh bravo Miss Kenworthy! That is just what a naughty girl needs! You are magnificent!”

This encouraged Miss Kenworthy to give ten more! Lucy could not resist any longer and through the pain screamed “You lying bitch, I fucking hate you! This should be you!”

The room went quiet, apart from heavy breathing and sobbing. “Right!” Said Miss Kenworthy menacingly.

Lucy went as quiet as a mouse, but knew it was too late.

“You foul mouthed girl!”

More to come soon….be patient

One girl I have spanked many times is Kate. It got so bad that instead of spanking her on the spot for a misdemeanor I started making her wait, for days. To come to my office. I came to the conclusion that she needed firm discipline with a degree of humiliation. So I positioned a mirror, on a chair, to the side of my office door.

The idea being that the girl can see herself being punished and see how ridiculous she looks crying and wailing with her bottom wiggling and legs kicking. Then I would make her do corner time before it, and stay ther, no matter who, or how many people came to my office. Anyone from the postman, to visitors, to my secretary, and other girls.

She always walked in without a care, and the day after would always say a cheery “Hello Mr Jones” on the corridors.

I came to the conclusion that she was a natural submissive who enjoyed being punished! See what you think, here are some photos…

I always tried to vary both apparatus and implement.

So too the corner time, which also included leaving her with her red bottom high in the air. I always remember the milkman dropping a pint of milk as he entered once!

No matter how hard, how embarrassing for her, or other people, she was back every week, sometimes twice!

Can you see what I mean? She came too often, just too often, compared to other girls.

****

Here is a little vintage set of real schoolgirls, from various on line archives, to give you a feel of what is was like back in the day…

****

CHERRY…

One of the most endearing, yet cheekiest of all the girls I have had to punish, and in her case on several occassions, was this girl. Cherry Blush. Blush by name, and looking at her bottom after a spanking, often it was Blush by nature!

She was always smiling, apart from when being caned! Always cheeky. Even in corner time I caught her winking at her classmates with her bare bottom on show once!

Such was the nature of the girl….delightful, yet naughty. Even the afternoon after a morning six of the best, just like Kate she would greet me in the corridor with a cheery “Hello Mister Jones!” Maybe it is a sign of the girls who rather like a good spanking!

Oh she appeared in my punishment book many times!

Along with the Goverment Code of Practice for punishing naughty girls bottoms, I always did it fairly and with respect. Apart from the odd occassion when a girl had been caught stealing or some other serious nonsense. Then I would thrash the bare buttocks mercilessly.

I remember one of her first crimes, and I knew then, that she would be back many times. She was charging the boys fifty pence to look at her bottom, £1 to feel it, and £2 for masturbating as they did so!

Mind you! Who could blame the boys!

Yes, she ended up on the corridor naughty stool for the whole afternoon for that!

Before that I spanked her soundly before the class.

I made her stand before the board, so that day she spent a lot of time contemplating the rewards of being naughty!

Did it make much difference? Nooooo….she ended up in corner time on many occassions!

To be honest, I think she damn well enjoyed the bloody experience! I think she was quite an exhibitionist!

She usually took her punishment well, but on the odd occassion I had to do it hard. Following the guidelines you see! It is no good caning just the same for every crime. Like when she bared her bottom on the M1 on a school trip. I made her pay dearly for that, with added humiliation!

Oh my word, I saw that worried little face very often!

Even taking her own knickers down was different, almost a striptease show! What a naughty girl!

Her worst crime was being caught playing with herself before the class when the School Governors were on a visit!

Before the class, and the Board of Governors I thrashed her hard in a very well presented position, oh she squealed and cried, but I did not relent! Standards must be maintained you see.

She has left now, and is a model. I still bump into her, and she always greets me with a cheery smile and a wink!

She is a lovely girl. Did I do her any good? I think so, but one thing is for sure….it was fun trying!

Mr Jones

The Desk (a few short stories based around a school desk)

NUMBER ONE

Oh dear….sometimes I wonder if any of the girls at this school have any commen sense at all!

These two have decided it is a wizard jape to draw penis diagrams in our Geography text books. It was so easy to catch them. I gave them two books with no drawings in, witnessed by my good friend and colleague Miss Kenworthy. On return of the books at the end of class I looked, and they they were.

I have sent them to the punishment room to write a three side essay on why they should not deface school property.

I can hear them laughing and giggling as I approach. I was going to smack their naughty bottoms on receipt of their work, now it will be six sides of A4, and four strokes of the cane!

I enter the room….”Quiet!”

“Stand up!”

“Stand up straight, look to the front, hands by your sides! No talking. Now….remove your knickers! I am going to cane you both, and it is now a six page essay, handed in tomorrow morning after assembly!”

“Yes Sir…Yes Sir”

“Bend over!”

I swish my cane…..swiiiish…..swishhh

“Right girls, no nonsense now, let’s get it over with!”

WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK

“owwww oooooh owww-wwww ohhhhhhh ooh!!!!!”

CRACK, WHACK, THWACK, SMAAAACK

“owwwwww, ohhhh my, ohhhhhhhh, Oooooh!!!!!”

The punishment was swift and effective, both girls blushing, red faced and red bottomed.

“Sit down!”

“Books out!”

“Write out fifty times….’Naughty girls get red striped bottoms’…in your best handwriting!”

Both girls were sniffing and wriggling, it was obviously stinging a great deal.

“Now both of you, sit in the humiliation row. The rest of your class will be here shortly to hear you read your lines out loud.”

The rest of the class come in giggling. I make no attempt to stop them.

“Right, first you Samantha, then Kate, stand up, no rubbing your bottoms! Read your work, loud and clear!”

The room explodes into laughter as they do so.

……two more naughty girls dealt with!

NUMBER TWO

…you would have thought an intelligent girl like Samantha would keep her head down after that wouldn’t you?

But oh no! Not naughty Samantha, two days later she was in my class and I caught her reading a naughty book!

“Samantha! What have you got there?”

A book fell to the floor. “Nothing Mr Jones!”

I gasped…”Do you think me stupid, we all just heard it fall, do you want me to make you read some to the class?”

“No…no….er…no Sir!!”

“I thought not! Get out here, now, young lady!”

The rest of the girls snigger and whisper.

She stood slowly, and silently walked to the front of the class.

It was time to use embarrassment. I made her squirm.

“Please turn to face the class Samantha.

I told her to lift her slip and lower her knickers. The class giggled but I did nothing to stop them.

“Bend over you naughty girl and please be good enough to tell the truth. You were reading a naughty book were you not?”

“Yes Mr.Jones.”

“Legs apart!”

I then gave her a crisp dozen smacks. She squealed loudly. “Turn around!”

I gave her another dozen, much harder, with a plimsol. The class was quiet. I was setting an example.

“Now stay there until the end of class young lady. Let your peers see hat a naughty bottom looks like!”

You are sat at the front desk, she glances at you. But you have no chance to convey any sort of message, sympathetic or otherwise.

“Eyes to the front girl, and legs apart please!”

And ther she stayed, her privacy exposed and her sore bottom screaming out to be rubbed, until the bell rang. Crying.

Another lesson given!

NUMBER THREE

Sarah and Charlotte…

“Just how many times do I need to tell you two to be quiet! This is a test, you are supposed to be working on your own. Stop laughing, I told you two to stop laughing!”

“I said stop giggling, this is important! Stand up, the pair of you, perhaps a sore bottom apiece might teach you two to behave! Stand up I said, and lift your gym slips!”

They continued to giggle! “Excuse me young ladies! You still find it funny do you? Lower your knickers!”

Charlotte let out a snort, which made Sarah laugh aloud. “Oh I see, so you do think this is funny? And you expect me to stand here and be ridiculed do you? Well know this girls, you will not get the better of me! Bend over!!”

The pair did bend over, to push their delightful bottoms out and wiggle them to the class, which erupted in laughter. They thought, and indeed, so did I up until this point, that it was going to be nothing more than a spanking.

But I was not going to stand for it!

I picked up a tawse and a cane. “Out to the front, the pair of you, let the class see if you find THIS amusing. Charlotte bend over, present your bottom. Sarah, you stand there!”

I gave Charlotte a few with the tawse as Sarah looked on, horrified and afraid.

Then I caned her!

Sarah’s face was the epitome of a naughty girl seeing her fate unfold, my cane hit hard and true on Charlotte’s bottom.

“Right, swop places!”

It was Charlotte’s turn to watch.

I gave Sarah a caning too, and sent them to stand at the front of the class, bare striped bottoms on show, as I lectured the class.

I gave all 33 girls a very stern lecture. The thrashing had upset some, who were sniffing.

I then made the two naughty girls put their noses to the projection screen for the last half hour of the lesson. Both were crying.

I can assure you, they found it funny no more!

Two more naughty girls dealt with.

….more to be added soon

Asa

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.

PHOTO OF DEBORAH (AS MRS.WALTERS) OPENING THE DOOR WITH A BIRCH IN HER HAND

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.

PHOTO OF DEBORAH RINGING THE BELL

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.

“Now.”

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.

PHOTO OF DEBORAH WITH THE BIRCH, AND LUCY UNDRESSING

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.

PHOTO OF THE BIRCHING

“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.

 

 

 

 

CALL BACK SOON, AS I ADD TO THE STORY…..BYE!

 

 

 

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 STORY…

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!”

…smack…smack…smack!

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?”

“YES TOTALLY NUDE…NOW!”

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 END

 

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.

SMACK!

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…