i often get asked how I started all this and what happened along the way.
i was interviewed, by ‘Someone’s Gonna Get It’, here it is…
i often get asked how I started all this and what happened along the way.
i was interviewed, by ‘Someone’s Gonna Get It’, here it is…
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 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!
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
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.
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.
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.
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!”
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.”
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.
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?”
“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?”
“Yes, my fallen angel, spankings! Would you like Mistress to spank you?”
“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.
“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.”
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…
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 ouch.uk.com 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?”
“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.
“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.
NOTE… DUE TO LIMITATIONS ON UPLOAD SIZE I HAVE DECIDED TO KEEP CLARITY OVER COLOUR FOR THE NEXT THREE PHOTOS, MY FILES ARE 12mb BUT THIS SITE ONLY ALLOWS 2mb
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.”
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.”
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!”
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.”
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!”
THIS WILL CONTINUE IN PART TWO
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…
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.
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!”
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!
The girls began to masturbates again.
do you know what?
Miss Black joined it. Together in that little room a unique relationship was born.
SO WHAT NEXT?… PROBABLY A SEQUAL OF MISS BLACK AT HOME IN SCHOOL UNIFORM SERVING HER YOUNG MISTRESSES, OR SIMILAR
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’
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…
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.
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…
In the beautiful county of Derbyshire in England is an area of outstanding beauty, a National Park, called ‘The Peak District’. Many beautiful villages, glorious dales, and stunning countryside are everywhere to be found, and people come from all over the world come to see it. Two such people are Charlotte and Amber, two friends from the U.S.A. who have hired a vintage car to tour the area in style.
A week ago, Kate, the lady who owns the vintage cars and runs her own business from her large country home had waved them off in their Rover feeling quite envious of their tour in this beautiful part of England to come.
The National Park still holds many secrets in its lesser known parts, such as the northern area, known as ‘The Dark Peak’.
Up here are the moors and peat bogs, often shrouded in mist, where the haunting call of the curlew is a common noise on the wing.
It is here that a collection of villages threw up names that only England could. First, in the Doomsday Book was the pretty upland village of Cum Leigh, soon to be shortened to Cumley. After that there arose other villages, related to this lovely place , those of Upper and Lower Cumley. Then later came a little hamlet, Cumley Bottom, and above this small honey coloured stone collection of stout houses stood the home of the local Squire. It was called Cumley Bottom Hall.
In 1845 there was a great scandal. It came about that the squire at that time squandered a great deal of his wealth on the pleasures of the flesh, with his ‘Upturned Rump Society’ gaining great notoriety throughout England.
Here we should deliberate a little, he was the Squire, yet many people voiced opinions on whether or not he was a man at all, he wore women’s clothes at times, and maybe that was all there was to it. He died of madness induced by Venereal Disease, I suppose the undertaker knew for sure what sex he was! He is still known to this day in the area as ‘The Squire-ess’.
When he died he left debts, but slowly the family grew, and flourished once again. It is said that the old Hall is haunted by the squire, and that the ‘Upturned Rump Society’ still exists. It is run by a descendant of the family, a tall strict looking lady, who often wears black, and a Victorian style of clothing. Her name is Victoria.
It was one September evening, a misty damp evening to be precise, when the paths of the two American tourists, the old hall, and Victoria were all drawn together.
The vintage car came to a shuddering halt, it was late and the girl’s phones had no signal. In the distance was a building, a large stone building, and the lights were on. They grabbed a few things and threw them in a rucksack, locked the car and walked up Cumley Lane. Rooks called out in the cold autumnal air, as darkness fell quickly They saw the sign, ‘Cumley Bottom Hall’, and Amber smacked her own bottom and said, “Just right for our bottoms then! lets see if they have anywhere to rest them. shall we?”
They crunched up the gravel path, Amber first and the more cautious Charlotte behind, looking around tentatively. They approached a stout oak door, to pull a bell that looked as if it was straight from a Dicken’s Novel.
They looked at each other as they heard footsteps approach.
The door was opened by a tall severe looking, slender woman in her early sixties, she listened to their tale and invited them in. The house was warm, well lit, and welcoming. English hospitality at its best they thought.
An evening meal was provided by the gracious lady, over which they recounted their worried feelings at the time the car had broken down, and how pleased they were to find such a place so welcoming. As they ate a hot pudding and custard, the lady, whom they now knew as Victoria, went to light fires in two of the guest rooms in the east wing. The Red Room, and The Brown Room.
“She’s a bit weird, but I think we have landed on our feet.” Said Amber.
Charlotte nodded in agreement, not being quite so sure.
It began rain hard, and rattled against the mullioned windows as they ate desert.
Tired and ready for sleep the girls were shown into their own rooms and before half an hour was gone, they were both asleep.
Victoria had gone to her own room, to change…
And I don’t mean her clothes.
On the landing was a grandfather clock, ticking slowly and loudly. As it struck one, Charlotte awoke with a start, and switched on the light, which illuminated the red room she had been given. She remembered noticing a strange picture above the bed before she climbed in, and recalled that she did not like it very much. As she looked around the room she had a strange feeling of being looked at, slowly she turned to look at the face in the painting, and said ‘What are you looking at?’
The house was full of passages, many of them secret, and one such passage ran along two sides of her room. There looking through two small holes in the eyes of the picture was Victoria, in the guise of the mad squire.
She shut her eyes and drew back from the peep holes, shutting the little openings and closing the curtains which lined the passageway walls. She drew her stick up as if she was to deliver a whack to an upturned rump.
Very quietly she answered Charlotte’s question to the painting…
She let the stick fall quickly with a swish.
Charlotte heard it, “What the fuck was that?”
She looked around the room, feeling a little more than worried, yet almost at the same time, she felt suddenly sleep again. Slumber found her easily, and without realising it ever happened, she slumped down on to the bed again and fell soundly asleep.
Before she knew it she was sat up again, the clock chimed three. She looked down at herself, and her attire, she realised she was dressed in bloomers and a beautiful Victorian dress, akin to a wedding gown. But strangely, it did not bother her at all, it felt quite natural to be dressed so, and no worry of how she had become dressed as such crossed her mind.
This time she felt at ease, and although she still felt the picture was looking at her, she became aware of a feeling of pleasure, as if she wanted to please the strange face in the picture.
The room felt inviting and warm. She began to feel naughty, and wanton as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked at herself as a man might, and liked what she saw. She felt haughty.
She wanted to see herself be naughty too, not only did she want to please the strange painting, but also she wanted to please her imaginary ‘man in the mirror’. Before long her bloomers were sliding down.
She began to masturbate, and never had her pussy felt so divine to touch, neither had it responded so well.
Her first orgasm of the night shuddered through her loins as she let out a deep sort of growl.
Looking through the eyes of the picture, Victoria looked on, herself masturbating to her first orgasm of the night. Both came together.
Victoria whispered, ‘Well done my beauty.’
Without knowing she had done so, Charlotte replied. “Thank you Mistress.”
She lay on her back, her pussy throbbing and twitching delightfully, and as the painting looked down, she fell asleep, bloomers to mid thigh.
But the spectre of the past had not finished with Charlotte, not by any means. The girl slowly drifted to sleep again, and awoke when the clock struck four.
Her bloomers were still down, beside her on the bed was a very vintage looking slender walking stick and a riding crop, the picture whispered and she obeyed, present your bottom to the mirror, show me your upturned rump…
The words seemed to echo in her mind…’upturned rump…upturned rump…’
She slid to the edge of the bed, positioned herself so that her bottom was in the middle of the mirror and bent over, the ghostly figure watched once more through the peep holes, her position was perfect, she could now see her face and her bottom at the same time.
The picture was pleased with what is saw…
Very pleased indeed, and it began to rub its own moistness again.
Charlotte could hear the familiar wet ‘click click clik’ of fingers in wet pussy lips, which were sticking together during masturbation, the smell of female moistness, both hers and the pictures gushed over her, she wanted to please the picture more than anything in the world.
She reached over for the slender dark vintage cane, and held it hard against her bottom.
“How does that feel on your upturned rump my dear?”
“Sexy, cold, frightening Mistress…I mean…Master? I find it exciting Mistress Picture.”
The Mistress in the picture spoke in Charlotte’s mind again, “Climb on the bed, remove your dress.”
She did so, and in her bloomers she climbed up on the inviting, soft, red four poster bed, to settle before the face in the painting,
…the strange yet enticing face in the painting.
“Delight me with your bottom girl!”
Without question she began to remove her bloomers from her bottom again, to bare it, and show it.
Ohhh the voice was so commanding, she wanted to obey, and submit to it so very, very much. She wanted to show her bottom and pussy to her new, yet vintage, Mistress.
“Look at my bottom Mistress, look at my pussy lips, do they please you?”
She could hear the wet squelch of fast cunt rubbing, along with slight groans getting closer and closer together.
Quickly Charlotte rolled onto her tummy and began to buck her bottom up and down to please her watcher.
Her fingers moved to her own pussy and began to finger that dripping cunt wildly as she bucked…
She came again, harder than the first time, but she could hear that the picture had not cum itself yet.
“Show me your dripping wet cunt you slut”
“On your knees bitch, rub the crop against your cunt!”
She obeyed willingly, wantonly, sluttily…
The shaft of the crop slid easily between her lips and she began to buck again, and to her delight another orgasm teetered on the brink of her lips.
“Now thrash that upturned rump until you come…thrash it, thrash it!”
Charlotte whacked her bottom harder and harder, faster and faster until they both came hard together.
Charlotte fell quietly into a deep post orgasmic slumber without even realising she had done so again. Victoria closed the peep holes on the odd little picture and drew the curtains over it. She walked down the secret passage to open another set of peep holes in a painting of a Saint, to look at Amber as she slept.
“Charlotte, come hither, find your dear friend, she wants you, she really wants you.” Spoke the Squire-ess to her new submissive.
A smile spread across Charlotte’s face as she arose from her slumber and her bed, to open her door, and walk quietly to Amber’s room. She put her hand on the octagonal polished brass knob and turned it, the door opened slowly with a low creak, she began to walk deftly, almost as she was floating above the thick pile of the carpet, and then to climb into her bed, where she once more fell asleep.
“Amber, listen to me my dear little pet. Entice your friend, she wants you badly, entice her with your upturned rump…upturned rump…upturned rump.”
Amber stirred, turned to the picture, and looked into Victoria’s eyes as she silkily moved the cover to reveal her bottom. “Yes Mistress, I want her too. I will.”
Gently she woke her friend. “Charlotte, you have just climbed into my bed, you have been sleep walking. But don’t go, I like you here, lets sleep together, would you like that?”
Charlotte giggled at what she had done. The two girls laughed like two schoolgirls having a midnight feast in a school dormitory. “Yes I would love to stay.”
She settled down almost immediately to return to her slumber.
Soon afterwards Amber rested her head on her goose feather pillow, and joined her in sleep.
Victoria looked on, her pussy once more feeling moist and slippery.
The clock struck again, but this time differently, almost a tune like church bells, as if to signify something, something different, and definitely not the time.
Not knowing what time it was, Charlotte awoke again, and was once more consumed with desire. It was her friends bottom that allured her, it was so close to her thigh as they lay, her cheek softly pushed against her.
Amber, now awake again, smiled at the picture and pushed her bottom further towards her friend. She wanted to please the Saint, just as Charlotte had wanted to please the picture in the red room.
Charlotte looked at her friend and thinking her still asleep, she gently and slowly pulled the covers down. Amber felt the cool early morning air upon her cheeks.
Charlotte placed one hand on her own pussy, and one hand on Amber’s bottom. She gently squeezed the soft ripe flesh of her buttock, and played gently with her moistness. The Squire-ess looked on hungrily and eagerly as two more brides of Cumley Bottom Hall were enticed beyond redemption.
The smoothness of Amber’s bottom was softer than her goose down pillow, it invited caress. Charlotte was lost in the spell of her friends ‘cumley bottom’.
Charlotte orgasmed, and Amber turned to her. “You are a naughty girl Charlotte, playing with my bottom and masturbating.”
Charlotte looked a little worried, “Awww, I’m sorry.”
Amber laughed. “Don’t be silly, I loved it! But I need to cum now, badly. Then young lady, you will find out what naughty girls get!”
They kissed and embraced, love filled the air of the delightful ‘brown room’.
So too did the sound of orgasms.
“Now then naughty girl, get out of bed, and bend over that chair, I am going to spank your upturned rump.”
The spirit began to run like black liquid out of the eyes of the Saint in the picture, and over the bed covers, to climb the draped of the four poster bed. It hung their wand watched their spanking.
A new sound now filled the room, the sound of a palm striking a soft rounded rump.
A whisper, so delicate, fluttered like a moth from the dark entity hanging on the old thick material, to enter their minds.
Charlotte looked to Amber. Daylight sent shafts of light through the curtains, they could hear bird call. “I am in no rush to leave here, are you? I could stay here forever.”
The black guardian of Cumley Bottom Hall said gently. “And so it will be my dears, my two knew brides of Cumley Bottom Hall”.
The clock struck again, similar to a Westminster Chime, to signify the arrival of the two new spanking spirits.
Amber listened to the whisper. “Find me another, I need more, can you do that?”
She looked to Charlotte and said. “Yes, let’s stay a while if we can, shall we call Kate and tell her to come for the car?”
The old style phone surprised and amused them. They were not at all surprised to hear an old fashioned crisp English operator’s voice ask them the number they wanted, and then speak to Kate. ”
Kate looked bemused at her mobile, the voice sounded like something from a black and white movie. “Putting you through now, stay on the line…beeep.”
Soon the tale of the Rover’s sad demise and of their good fortune in finding Cumley Bottom Hall, with the lovely Victoria was narrated, and Kate agreed to set off that very day, to fetch the car and ‘sort things out’.
She got in her car and drove over the moors to find the place she had never heard of. It was late afternoon when she arrived. What on earth was going on? The place was just a ramshackle pile of stones, an empty shell, a Gothic ruin.
She began to explore. The place seemed so interesting, so vital and alive despite its appearance. It almost invited her in.
Within a few minutes the voices started, and the bells like wedding bells on a happy day somehow began to draw closer and louder.
Surely that was Charlotte…”Kate..Kate!”
She turned but saw nothing, only the grass rustling in the wind, but then came Amber’s voice, accompanied by a giggle. “Kate, we can see you!”
Kate looked around but could see nobody, the place was totally deserted. The wind, the bees, the rustle of leaves and the general gentle noise of a warm day were her only company. She felt like a young girl playing hide and seek. “Where are you? I can hear you but cannot see you!”
“We are around the back, come and find us.”
She joined in the play, and replied to an upstairs window where the sound of their voices had echoed from. “Okay, coming! Ready or not!”
The bells rang again, it was almost as if she was walking up to a church door at a wedding of a friend, but as soon as she reached the door her feelings changed. The warmth of the sun in the shadow vanished immediately and she felt cold. She peered through, the inviting sun beckoned her to the rear of the building.
She hurried through to the other side and the warmth hit her again, so too did the summer noise, and a voice, was it Amber or Charlotte?
She looked and was taken aback, before her in the near distance was a portcullis. “Are you in there?”
She began to walk towards it, and as she did so things changed, her feelings began to turn to sexual arousal, as if going to a secret meeting place to meet a lover.
The voice changed too, it was the voice that had spoke to Charlotte and Amber that came to her now, and she welcomed it.
She walked to the portcullis willingly. “Come to me my darling” whispered the voice.
When she reached the portcullis, it was like taking the first sip of a long awaited drink of your favourite tipple, to her it was like a mouthful of the best Merlot. She touched the steel bars, which were cool in the shade…”Mmmmm.”
She notices the tethers hanging there, and instinctively her hand moved up to take one. “That’s right my petal.” Said the voice. “…take one, slide your wrist into the loop
She does the same with the other hand and the feeling of restraint fills her with the need. The need of a submissive.
From somewhere in the distance, through the trees she hears the bells again, so beautiful, so very English.
The voice spoke again, and in the background she can hear the hushed giggle of other girls, they must be watching. Intermingled with the gentle laughter are other noises, moans and sighs of delight, the sounds of sexual pleasure. Whoever is watching me is enjoying it she thinks. “When you visit Cumley Bottom Hall my dear, it is best to leave your inhibitions and clothes at the door. Your knickers, you don’t need your knickers do you? Remove them.”
Slowly she pulled her dress up.
She hooked a thumb of each hand into the elastic and began to tug.
In the cool shady air, the feeling of the soft material gently running down her legs excited her already moist pussy, she let out a gentle, barely audible moan.
With her knickers at her ankles she soaks up the heady atmosphere. The voice speaks again. “You have a need, satisfy it!”
Other voices, all female, make excited noises, almost as if pushing forward to get a better look.
“Yes I have a great need Mistress.” At which she slid to the floor, the shock of the cold on her bare bottom made her take a sharp intake of breath.
“You will do that much more often for me.” Said the voice. “But not at the reaction to cold stone.”
The female voices giggled knowingly.
Her hands slid up her thigh to be met by a great wetness.
Her need was great, finesse was little, she fingered herself hard and fast and came loudly in seconds.
The voice said well done my naughty girl.
The girlie voices said… “And we all know what naughty girls get don’t we?”
Kate replied. “Spankings, lots of spankings on their bare bottoms!”
“Yes!!!” They echoed.
The need for a good spanking on her bare bottom could not be satisfied by herself, she screamed loud. “Someone, anyone, please, please! Spank me!!”
The voice laughed, and the air went quiet. “I will.”
As in the room of the girls a darkness came to the edge of her vision, like black ink running through the foliage.
It moved towards her… slowly, and darkly, and encased in the darkness were the Squire Brides, which now included Charlotte and Amber.
The mist moved towards her, and secured her wrist to the portcullis.
Suddenly she felt warmth engulf her, no longer was she outside the ruin, she was inside, she was bent over, naked, her bottom upturned for this strange creature in Victorian attire. “That’s it my beauty, present your bottom!”
The cane swung down in an arc and landed neatly across the middle of her fine rump.
She saw him for the first time, a strange cruel looking man in a vest and bloomers, and where was she, what had happened to the ruin. She had no more time to think as whack after whack landed on her bottom.
Then the man picked up a hairbrush from a rack of implements and proceeded to spank her with that!
She squealed and could hear other girls laughing and making mock of her torment.
There was no escape from him, he changed his weapon of punishment again, into a thick red tawse, he whacked her poor bottom mercilessly. She was over his knee before she knew it, getting a real old fashioned no mercy, bare bottom, over the knee spanking.
The sensation changed, and suddenly she did not want him to stop, she felt a well known tingling in her groin, she was starting to cum.
“Oh spank me, harder, faster, don’t stop!”
The girls laughed loudly and one shouted… “That’s it, he has her, we have another bride!”
She looked to her right and could see them, a huge crowd of laughing women, and in them she recognised two..
Amber and Charlotte, who urged her. “Come and join us!”
Confusion was suddenly all around Kate, she seemed to flash from the past to the present and suddenly found herself back in a deserted part of the ruin, almost like a hostage, sat on an old chair, then this figure from the brides drifted by and spoke.
“It is your decision, but it must be made now.”
Then she was running, looking for sanctuary.
She came to rest by a window. The modern world and all its worries and stress seemed so harsh, and the brides seemed so voluptuous and sexual.
She gave in…
The brides came for her…
They took her.
So beware if you go to the Dark Peak, you might never come back!
A few months ago as a result of my wife’s brothers divorce, and him ‘going off to find himself!’ as he so nicely put it, we have ended up with his daughter Amy, staying with us.
We were happy to help and still are, but when Charlotte our daughter and her cousin Amy are together, trouble is never far away. We have grounded them, even over weekends. We have spanked them a couple of times but nothing seems to make the slightest bit of difference to their attitude.
It was a Thursday, and we were just sat looking at holiday brochures sipping tea when the phone rang. It was Mrs Hallam, the Headmistress, informing us that both the girls had not been seen all week, and as the exams are coming up, they should not really be taking so much time off. It seems they have only put two full weeks in, over the last term!
I looked at her exasperated after doing so. “That woman must think we are a couple of bloody idiots! What are we going to do Deborah?”
We sat down to discuss it.
We talked for ages and then Deborah set us on the right path by saying, “They are so ‘cocky’ with it, they need bringing down a peg or two, as well as a damn good spanking apiece, they need some humiliation, something to make them dread the punishment happening again!”
It struck me straight away. “I have it Deborah! Remember when we watched ‘Game of Thrones’ and they made her walk the streets in shame, what’s her name, Cercy? I reckon we spank them before school, and make them walk all the way with their bare bottoms on show!”
“Better than that, we can ring school, and tell Mrs Hallam, and request that if they get to school without their bottoms bare, she must thrash them with the cane, on the bare!”
“Brilliant, lets do it, and we won’t tell them what to expect, we can send them to bed and let them stew all night!”
So we rang the school and Mrs Hallam, who we knew was dying to lay that cane across their naughty bottoms, agreed whole heartedly. The plan was set, so we waited to spring it.
After a while we heard them giggling and walking up our driveway. So we got into a position we had discussed between us earlier and waited.
Bouncing through the door as if ‘butter would not melt’ they shouted a bright cheerful ‘hello’, ‘hello’ apiece.
We spoke together, with our most serious looks, and raised eyebrows.
“Where have you two been today, this week, and many days in the last ten week? Eh?”
The look of shock was a picture to see, they had been caught!
Deborah had the slipper and was smacking the palm of her hand. “Well?”
They tried to think of something, they mumbled and then came the crocodile tears and apologies. “We are sorry Mummy, sorry Daddy.” and “Sorry Uncle, sorry Aunty.”
It was a forlorn hope and they new it.
We told them they were going to bed with no tea or supper, and that they would be punished in a very different way in the morning.
Deborah lost it then, and really tore into them. “Now get up those stairs…NOW!!!! I am fed up with the pair of you making us look silly.”
She chased them up the stairs with a few well aimed smacks on their bottoms.
I must say, even with such an atmosphere it was a joy to see and I had to smile.
That was it for now, they went to their rooms and we could hear them talking in muffled voices. We relented on tea and took them a sandwich each, but that was all.
They did not sleep a great deal.
The conclusion they had come to was that they might get slapped legs or a spanking and made to go to school with an apology note or something. They decided to be really good in the morning and extra polite.
Breakfast time came and down ‘the two dear little well behaved angels’ came!
“Good morning Mummy, Good morning Daddy, sorry about last night, we have thought about our bad behaviour and promise it won’t happen again.”
“Morning Uncle, morning Aunty, yes we are ever so sorry, you will see a new us from now on!”
They were greeted by silence from us both, and a breakfast did greet them, we are not cruel. They sat in hope, thinking that they might just…just…have survived. Their mood lightened and they began to chatter away.
Then we dropped the bombshell…
I spoke calmly and with great authority, we both had tohe heavy leather soled slippers in our hands. “You are both going to get jolly good over the knee bare bottom spankings young ladies. Then, we are pegging your skirts up, and with your panties down, bare red sore bottoms on show, you are walking to school. We have been in touch with Mrs Hallam, and if you reach school without your bottoms on show you are getting the cane each at the school gates!”
They were now stuck for words! They were in shock, we gave them no chance to gather themselves.
“Right, both of you, over you go. And just notice, both of you, that the patio doors are open, the girls on both sides will hear and no doubt give a very good account of the spanking to everyone at school!”
Over our knees they went, facing each other. Oh they were going to learn a very painful lesson today!
Skirts were lifted without hesitation and knickers were yanked down to their knees.
“Right Deborah, no build up, lets give it to them as hard and as fast as we can for as long as we can!”
The girls on both sides must have expected this and were in their gardens, we heard them shout…”Mummy, Daddy, they are both getting spanked before school!”
We heard laughter ring out like church bells on a Sunday morning!
This encouraged us, the more embarrassing it was for them, the better!
The spanking was hard and furious, they pleaded for mercy and got none. Cheeks wiggled and wobbled as the hand, then slipper, then hand and slipper again, cracked their bare upturned bottoms crisply, the sound of the smacks echoed around the kitchen like pistol shots.
The girls outside lapped it up, especially when both girls at one point managed to wriggle away from our knees and we dragged them back on to renew the spanking with new vigour!
OH!!!…… it was such a delicious dose of domestic discipline, that their naughty bottoms had needed for so long. We even got applause from the neighbours as it came to an end.
“Well done! They have both needed that for weeks!” Shouted one woman.
They walked out, crying and jumping up and down, rubbing their stinging bottoms.
“Right, get to the door it is time to peg those skirts up and let everyone see what naughty girls get at this house…come on!”
The girls next door, on both sides squealed in absolute joy! “They are getting their skirts pegged up, they are going to walk to school with red bottoms on show!”
Charlotte and Amy cried and begged us not to, but to no avail!
“No! We have asked, and we have demanded better behaviour from you two and it has not been forthcoming. Spankings alone have not worked, maybe some humiliation and embarrassment might do you naughty girls some good!”
So we made them go to the back door.
Stand to attention side by side.
Got some clothes pegs, and proceeded to peg their school skirts up, and regulation knickers down!
The effect was already amazing, they were obeying our instructions without hesitation or back chat… a miracle!
Their bottom redness was already fading, and we needed to get them on their way, so as soon as they were pegged up, we passed them their bags and opened the door.
The neighbouring girls clapped and cheered mockingly as the door opened.
I must say at this point, that in a strange way I suddenly felt proud of them. They held their heads up, and walked out onto our drive as if it was the most natural thing to do.
Although, when Deborah shouted to the girls next door…”I have contacted Mrs’ Milner, and if they get to school without their bottoms on show, they are getting caned at the gates, so follow them for me please, and report them if they do! Their heads dropped in dismay again
The girls closed the upstairs window with a shout of, “Yes we will!” and hurried downstairs.
So off they went, naughty spanked girls, with their bottoms on show.
THE WALK OF SHAME began…
Did their behaviour improve?
You will have to see, what do you think?