Guile, Hobbs and Thorn

MOST OF MY STORIES WITH ART HAVE BEEN WITH ARTISTS NOW LONG DEPARTED, BLESS ‘EM. BUT AS FAR AS I AM AWARE, THESE ARE ALIVE. IF ANY OF YOU END UP ON MY SITE, AND OBJECT TO ME USING THEM, I WILL HAPPILY DELETE.

I HOPE YOU DON’T, I LOVE THEM AND WANT TO SHOW MY FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS YOUR BEAUTIFUL ART….with a little story of mine added to them. I hope you like what I do.

Three brilliant modern spanking artists, with similar styles. I think you will enjoy these…

Here are some litte scenarios and stories to go with them.

No particular order, and it might be fun for you trying to sort out which is by who. Guile will be the most prolific. All are easily found via Google.

I am using the names of my girls, and one day hope to duplicate these with them in the photos. Which I will post along side. One day….this project has grown out of all proportions, ::smile::…I am so glad! 

So call back often, to see what has happened.

My dear Lucy loves to be spanked outdoors and is quite a brat at heart, so…

 

Lucy has been picked up from her school for the weekend. She is surprised to see her feared Uncle at the gate, instead of her Mummy.

On the way home he asks if she has homework, and on nervously digging into her satchel to show him her homework log book, a packet of cigarettes was discovered! Next to that was some scrawled drawing, obviously by Lucy…her signature was in the corner!… of the Headmistress depicting her in a state of undress with the gardener! She is a personal friend of her Uncle and it was her recommendation to Lucy’s parents, that they should try a fresh pair of hands with her boisterous ways. It was obvious by various comments written on the paper that it had been passed around her friends.

“You naughty girl! Smoking?! My word young lady! And this, I am going to post this to Miss Kenworthy! Now bend over…right here! Bate your bottom!”

He walks into the park’s well kept shrubbery and picks up “A Handy Switch’

“Oh Uncle please don’t, not in the park, the Boy’s Grammer School will be turning out soon! They will all see my bare bottm and you know what a silly spectacle I make of myself when you punish my bottom…please Uncle, let’s go to your home, I will be good all weekend, I promise!”

“That my dear niece is the very reason I am punishing you here! I think a liberal dose of humiliation will help correct your naughty ways! Your Mummy and Daddy are to send you to me every weekend, from now on, because you are proving difficult to handle and a blasted nuisance! Your haughty and naughty ways do you no favours! You my dear, are the quintiscential spoilt brat! And I, am the quintiscential strict uncle! You are coming to me until I am confident that you will behave in a manner that befits the benefits your wonderful parents have bestowed on you!”

The building over the wall is the Grammer School, the bell rings and loud voices are heard as the boys rush into the park…

The first bunch of boys, from the fifth year stumble upon them and stand wide eyed, soon others are swelling the crowd.

WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK! Six of the best land hard and true as Lucy hops and jumps, squealing. “Owwwww, ooooooh, eeeeeek!”

“Right young lady, hold your skirt up and walk to the car”….THWACK! 

‘He’s whacking her bare bum all the way!” Shout the boys as they follow, giggling and pointing.

I don’t think she will have to visit many times do you?

 

The Inveigle – Chapter Two – The Interval

As I write other chapters, be aware I might have to come back and alter things, this is not the final draft…

The intervals during an Inveigle show are grand affairs. A chance to visit the beautiful exotically tiled bathrooms, the bars, private rooms, and a walk down the lanes.

The lanes are like a small indoor town, with rooms to rent, private rooms to visit, courtyard bars, and most famously, the spanking booths. Most of the booths are three sided, with the front open to the lanes where crowds gather to watch. Perfect for humiliation. Some were totally enclosed, like a lounge room in a house, for the more privately minded.

Our two liberal minded girls who went to the theatre together, decide to walk the lanes and visit the booths. Melanie and Emma love to watch each other enjoy themselves, Melanie sat on an opulent studded leather chair to watch her friend, before she went to her booth, where Emma would watch her.

Emma had just been entrusted with the discipline of the maids at her fathers house. In her mind he had been far too lenient with the pretty girls, and they could twist him around their little finger.

Only a week earlier, Emma and her Papa had returned early to find their two maids asleep, and very little work done. She had pointed out to her dear Papa that he was too soft with them. He knew very well that she was right, and agreed that from that day on, they were in her charge as regards to duties and discipline.

They had both received their first spankings there and then! Her Papa had sat on a chair opposite her, and knee to knee they had both simoultaneously spanked the bare, red, wriggling bottoms of the maids. Papa had enjoyed it, he confided afterwards.

She had been reading articles by Mrs Beeton, of the cookery book fame, about the discipline of maids. She was a great advocate of spanking, and her articles in the ‘Tatler Magazine’ were fast becoming a Spanking Bible, specialising in the punishment and humiliation of maids.

She knew that very soon she would have to punish her real maids again, and tonight was a rehearsal. She was also going to buy straps and canes from the Inveigle Shop. The maids at home were going to lead a very different life from now on!

The booth she picked had a lovely glowing fire, and two maids. Naughty maids, which she soon set about baring their bottoms and punishing. To great applause and encouragement from the gathering crowd. “Mrs Beeton would be proud of you love!” Shouted a stout, severe looking woman. “Make sure you spread their arseholes for everyone to see! That makes them blush, especially if you do it before girls younger than the maids!”

“Like us! Shouted a group of young ladies who had stopped to watch.

Emma soon had the Inveigle Spanking Maids bent over, with bare bottoms on show, and was using a hairbrush on them, much to the delight of the young ladies.

They were wriggling and kicking in the cosy warm glow of the fire in the grate.

“Make their bottoms glow brighter than the embers Emma!” Shouted Melanie. Which brought forth great mirth.

Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls

 

 

Imagine a place in the universe, almost the same as here, almost. With one wonderful difference. Spanking!

Spanking is a world wide practice in this world, to keep naughty women in line. The judicial system everywhere is pretty much the same as our world, but, at the first offence, to avoid a criminal record, a woman of any age, is offered the chance to attend a special school. A school where corporal punishment in all its guises, is used at the discretion of the School Head, and staff, for as long as their ‘sentence’ is in force.

Quite simply, they have to agree to having their bottoms disciplined.

One such school is Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls. I am the Headmaster. My name is Mr Jones, Mr Asa Jones. I have been here for five years, things are going well, but it is time for a change.  However, before I tell you of the change, let me show you how it is now.

After applying for my school to be a ‘Correctional School’ things grew slowly. At first I mixed the girls on remand with the ‘normal’ girls who found it rather good fun to get these girls into trouble on purpose. This was unacceptable to me, so I took the brave step, just over four and a half years ago, to accept only the girls sent to me by the courts.

I had much to learn. My reputation of being a strict disciplinarian had got me the job, and it stood me in good stead. But the importance of subtle things, like putting a girl back in school uniform, and how it had a profound effect on a naughty young woman. Was something to be learned through experience and guidance. The Board armed me with guide notes and equipment. We had annual checks. It was tough, but but I stuck at it.

All the teachers in my school were female, and all had their own cane. Discipline ruled. Delinquents came in, and young ladies went out. Only when deemed fit, and after approval by the ‘Board of Remand Schools’.

I ran the school financially and was pretty much like Headmasters of any typical school. However, I kept myself aloof, a figure to be scared of, a man to respect. If you came to my office, you left with a sore bottom.

One girl from those early years, always comes to mind readily, when thinking of a punished bare bottom. Her name was Kate.

I devised something I called the ‘mirrorof shame’, the idea being that if a girl saw herself being punished and stood in corner time before it, it would add humiliation to her spanking. Especially as I had many visitors, from the post man, to my secretary, to the town mayor. All sorts of people. If a girl was stood before the mirror, they would stay throughout my meeting.

But, through Kate I saw that some girls saw a spell at my school as something to enjoy. The plan never took in to account the fact that some girls were natural submissives, who seemed a spanking and more. Kate was one, and they were my favourite naughty girls, they would return time and time again.

After her first spanking, which you can see here, her entrances into my office annex, slowly became bolder.

Her uniform was often worn provocatively, and this was her most common reason for being sent to me. Each time I punished her, I told her to get it corrected. To be honest, she was a joy to spank!

 

I had an array of apparatus as you will see over the next few sequences. But all ended up with a session before the mirror. I remember on this particular instance that the postman came in, and left with his face redder than her bottom! The poor young man, I could tell he wanted to stare, but politely, he  just glanced.

And so it went on, both submissive and non-submissive girls came in a steady stream, day after delicious spanking day.

Here are some more examples, to show some of the spanking and flogging apparatus I have at my disposal.

This one is a small rocking chair I get a  girl to kneel on. Not easy, but brilliant. Once you get into a good rhythm you whack!….they rock forward, usually squealing, then at their full backward rock… THWACK! You can send them forward squealing again! I like to use this when I demonstrate my skill to new staff. It shows me at my flogging best, especially if I do a flourish with the cane in between!

The last couple of shot shows a blubbering girl gently rocking to a standstill. Very satisfying.

AS YOU CAN SEE, THIS IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION, PLEASE CALL BACK OFTEN

 

The Naughty Estate Agent

It was her big opportunity.

She had worked at ‘Jones and Sons’ for eight years now, and her superior had just gone on maternity leave. This was just what she had hoped for, an old ruin in Yorkshire had just come on the market, a big gothic place, which the Managing Director said could be ideal for a T.V. or Film Set.

She was dispatched to a beautiful old village, all expenses paid, to survey the site, take photos, and make a portfolio for presentation to the ‘big’ T.V. and film people. In fact, anyone in media who might be interested.

It was a big task. They gave her two weeks to do it, which was more than generous. 

After her first night at the ‘Black Lion’ she had a full English breakfast, and set off to find the ruin, armed with a set of keys. The sun shone, the scenery was beautiful, the sky was blue. What could possibly go wrong?

An hour later, after trying various keys, she was there. The huge squeaking iron gates locked behind her. She got out of her car, which would be perfectly safe locked in, and set off for an initial exploration.

Straight away she fell in love with the place. Crows flew into the air filling the sky with noise, but soon settled to be replaced by the gentle hum of bees, and tranquil bird call. 

“Wow! What a place!”

She began by going in the front doorway.

Straight through to the back doorway, and outside again. Something about the light shining through the rear opening beckoned her. The back of the building was mysterious, in the fact that the south wing had a portcullis of sorts.

She walked to it. Almost mesmerised by it, she had dreamed of places like this, but to be here alone, with the keys, just to wander and explore, was a dream.

Her office and responsibilities began to fade quickly. ‘Plenty of time for all that!” she thought.

The Portcullis was like a magnet, she walked quickly to it, turned and backed on to it. “Oh God! This is so like my naughty dreams.” She thought to herself. She took a deep breath and filled with bravery in this enchanted place, she shouted to the heavens…”I want fastening to this portcullis naked! I want to be spanked, hard, then fucked senseless! I am a dirty pain loving bitch!”

The birds flew into the air again, and like some huge organ in a church, breaking the holy silence with a cacophony of noise! Her own voice echoed off the walls…

“bitch….bitch…bitch…” Slowly fading. She laughed aloud, very aloud, and again the echoing laughter came  back. 

Slowly things went quiet again, an orange tip butterfly fluttered by, to settle on a bright yellow clementine. She felt very much alone, very much excited, and very much in need of her fingers in her dripping wet cunt!

She just could not help herself. It was as if her pussy was shouting at her, “ohhh fuck work, get your fingers busy and fuck me!”

She reached up to grab her tight white panties, which were sopping wet, and pulled them down to the floor.

The feeling of being so very naughty made her drip, she was desperate to get her fingers busy.

“How naughty! I’m getting paid, I should be working, but here I am in the open air, with my knickers down at my ankles!”

The cool air hit her pubic hair and pussy lips, sending a delightful shiver up inside her. She slid to the floor to open her legs and stretch the tight white panties…wide.

It didn’t take her long to cum, twice. The muscles in her cunt gripped her middle finger in spirals it was so intense. She shouted out loud…”I am such a naughty girl fingering my cunt, getting my bottom mossy,…I need spanking! A good long hard bare bottom….ooooooooh…spanking!”

The word echoed off the walls like a hand slapping your firm buttocks.


New Girls for Spanking

A while ago I put an advert out on PP asking for new girls to come to my school for a spanking or more, and the chance to appear in one of my stories.

I was staggered by the response of pretty young girls wanting to come and bare their bottom for a spanking.

I already have my main team of lovely spanking models, that will not change.

I already have a full client list of ‘private customers’ who do not want to be photographed, just spanked in their fantasy scenarios. They come to be spanked for real, very often for a past deed that has troubled them, the most common is bullying someone.

But for one of my stories, I needed new girls, to come straight from court, to my school of correction. To be stripped, put in school uniform, and punished, before being sent to the dormitory to begin their new life. Their sentence, without a criminal record would then begin, under the auspices of Miss Kenworthy. Sometimes a week, sometimes a month, sometimes longer.

The first girl to apply was Molly.

NOTE :-

This is not one of my stories. This is a description of what happened with each girl, the real girl, not a story character. The ones who replied to my advert.

Like most newcomers she arrived with her  bag of belongings, and obviously a little nervous. We had written a few times prior to our meeting and I had constantly reassured her that I am a gentleman, and what I do is built on trust, respect, and most of all, recommendation.

I soon put her at ease over tea and cake, and before long she was comfy in my warm friendly company, having a chuckle. Then we talked about her spanking.

She told me why she needed a spanking, it was all to do with being unkind to a young teacher, and making her life hell. 

So, an hour later after shooting her transformation into a naughty girl in  school uniform I gave her a real good telling off about her behaviour, pointing out how the poor young woman must have felt. I told her to imagine the woman was there now, to witness her punishment, and afterwards agreeing to get on with her life, the matter finally being closed.

She said she wished she was.

I told her that if this was in my day as a Headmaster, at my school,  in my office, that even though it was her first spanking, it would be a hard long one on the bare, and if she did not apologise and show true regret, I would use the plimsol on her bare behind and quite possibly finish with the cane!

In real life she had had her bottom smacked and stroked, but she had never been spanked. I told her quite plainly that she needed a good spanking and would feel better for it, and that there is only one person who decides when it is over…

ME!

This scared her a little, so I offered a safe word and assurance that I would stop instantly. But added, that for her own good she should try to struggle on through the pain and shock, to the end, and be grateful that someone has finally put an end to her guilt.

She agreed.

I told her to stand to my right as I sat on an old wooden chair. I instructed her to lift her gym slip, and lower her knickers to her knees. I turned to take her hand, her delightful pussy was only two feet from my nose. I gave a gentle tug and over she came. Her virginal soft pert young bare bottom arched up towards me, trembling. I could feel her nervousness on my lap.

It was a tense moment, the whole world at that instant condensed to her, in my secluded, perfectly safe spanking sanctuary, draped over my knee. We could make as much noise as we liked, nobody would hear or disturb us. The air was  still, sunlight illuminated her firm young cheeks, her fine downy bottom hair stood up.

I wrapped my left arm around her tiny waist and gripped. I raised my right hand, holding it stiff and firm in a slight arch to match the curve of her cheeks.

Using all my skills I began, straight into a hard fast flurry of firm smacks. Four on her right cheek, two on the left, three to each then two on each alternating. The poor girl screamed, bucked and wriggled!

She had no idea where the next resounding smack would fall.

Her right arm flew around in instinctive protection.

Ha! I was ready for that! I caught it easily around the wrist and forced it to the small of her back. ‘How dare she try to block me?!’

The noise she made was a series of loud hisses in the sharp form of …

“Ahh ahh ahh ahhh!”

It spurred me on, her bottom was soon hot and crimson.

No safe word was shouted, so I swung high, and landed hard, watching the shock waves ripple through the soft flesh like the sea might on the shore in a stiff breeze.

“I’m sorry Miss Worthington…I’m so sorry!” She wailed.

I believed her, the apology shot forth repeatedly, in earnest, between her squeals.

I finished the bare  bottom spanking using just my fingers, hard and stiff, each smack leaving four white stripes for a brief moment in time as I said loudly “Let this be a lesson you will never forget young lady!”

She squealed her reply as her bottom bounced “Oh it is Mr Jones! I won’t ever forget…thank you, thank you!”

I stopped.

Here are a couple of photos of her bottom after I had spanked her, in position for the shoot…

Breathing hard I watched her cheeks settle. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes as I gently stroked her bottom.

She spent a while in corner time reflecting…

We continued the shoot, taking photos of her red bottom. She asked if I minded if she masturbated at the end. This is very common. I consented and watched. 

As she left she thanked me and asked…”Next time can I try the plimsoll?”

 

The next new girl, in September is Karen, she is playing a girl called Lisa, a name picked by one of my Twitter followers.

 

more to come…

 

From the Top Floor to the Cellar

Under construction….be patient with me, I flit about like a butterfly working on all my things bit by bit…

A very well to do, educated young woman answered one of my adverts.

“Dear Mr Jones.

I have a desperate need to be stripped naked and caned hard on the bare bottom in a derelict building, or at least a building in a state of disrepair. I have heard that you might be able to help.

Yours faithfully,

Charlotte.”

I replied that I had just the place, and suggested meeting for coffee to discuss it.

The reply was surprising…

“Dear Mr Jones.

Thank you for your kind offer. But I do not want to meet you until the day. I have been told that you are a gentleman and can be trusted. I do not even want to see you on the day, until my caning begins.

Just send a day, a time, and instructions.

Please.

I need a thrashing in mysterious surroundings and unusual circumstances. It really is as simple as that.

Charlotte.”

So I did as she asked. I sent her the address, a date, a time, and a note. I kept the note simple…

‘Once at my studio, go around the back to a small black door. When I see you approach I will leave it open and will meet you at the top floor. You will find the stairs after a while. Strip naked, wear a hat, and climb. On reaching the top floor, turn left and walk. Do not deviate left or right. You will know when you are at the place. Your adventure will not end there, after your thrashing, go to the cellar and follow the dark passage to the end. Do not reply unless you agree to follow these instructions.

Until then, goodbye.

Mr Jones.’

She replied, and agreed.

A month later found her at the back entrance to my studio. With a hat in her hand. I saw her arrive and dashed away to the stairs. I heard the outside door close, and a few footsteps.

I walked quietly and swiftly to the upper floor where I had set up some small apparatus. I waited patiently, more than a little excited by the thought of thrashing a strangers bottom before we had even spoken.

She found the stairs, and out of curiosity pressed the button for the lift. Not for a moment expecting it to arrive.

She turned to face the staira and began to climb them nervously, and excitedly. The thought of a fantasy being fulfilled thrilled her.

Right up to the top. (This photo being small is supposed to make it look like she has gone a long way!)

She turned to her left and entered what was obviously the room in question. “Perfect!” Thought Charlotte.

She had brought a pair of shoes with wedge heels, which she knew thrust her bottom out pertly. She changed into them.

I spoke.

She jumped in shock!

“Do not turn Charlotte. Know that I am watching your every move, and know that I like what I see very much, you please me. Walk to the apparatus and prepare yourself.”

“Yes Sir.”

With the walk of a super model she swayed her way invitingly to the small set of apparatus I had clinically set out in the space. I knew it would look small at first glance, but threatenng and austere on approach.

The Visitor

Under construction….

Over many years now I have offered a spanking service…

I have asked my dear friend Kate to act the role of Harriet, a lady who just could not wait to be spanked, and could not decide how!

Women just contact me now, I hardly ever advertise unless on PP for a specific part in a story. Most women who contact me do it after a secret conversation with a friend, or by reading one of my stories, or via social media, usually Twitter or Tumblr

One such lady was Harriet.

As often happens she sent me a message, which eventually led to a cyber spanking! Then she said  she wished she was brave enough to come. My response is nearly always the same…’come for tea and cake, let’s talk.’

To be honest, it very rarely ends in just a talk! It usually ends up with their bottom all aglow and walking away with a deep feeling of relaxation and…

“I wish I had known about you years ago! See you soon!”

Harriet was probably the most excited woman I have ever ‘serviced with a spanking’.

On her arrival she was visibly shaking, I thought it was just nerves, but it was a combination of this and pure excitement!

I took her to the school roomc, most girls want to see it first.

“Oh Mr Jones, I can hardly believe I am here, I have seen it so many times on line!”

I could tell straight away what was coming, as I saw her turn around at the stool. “Oh Mr Jones, I have seen so many of ‘your girls’ draped over this! I want my belly to lay where there’s have! Spank me now!”

Before I could answer her bottom was bare!

I must say it was hard to resist, but it is me who is in charge, not my visitors.

“Not yet, young lady, be patient. You have at least four rooms to see on your first visit. All filled with spanking apparatus. I am in charge here, that was naughty of you, trying to take control of your visit.  Especially in my school room. And you know what naughty girls get.”

“Oh yes, Mr Jones, a spanking. Sorry Sir.”

“I won’t forget.”

“Oh good.” Came a cheeky, blushing reply.

Harriet is like this, she still comes often :smiles:….blushing Harriet?

She turned and saw Neddy.

Neddy is a little rocking horse, and isthe favourite of Harriet, as she found out on a visit later than this one. It is also the favourite of a client whom I must mention, not by name, but by uniform.

She works for a company whose staff have to wear a bright red business suit. That is all I can say. She loves to wear it, minus skirt and knickers as I make her gallop to orgasm as I crop her pleasingly plump beautiful bottom.

I make her gallop faster and faster, jumping over imaginary gates, streams and hedges. When she cums she gallops so fast, that it is a wonderment to see, she squeals and pushes down, grinding I to the saddle as I stripe her bottom with the crop mercilessly.

She always gushes, profusely, and her love juices run freely down the saddle. I never, ever, clean it. If a girl wants to ride it and avoid the stain I place a wipe on the saddle.

anyway…Harriet adds her own pattern to the mosaic, and beautiful and dirty it remains!

“ohhhh Neddy! I have seen Neddy in your photos lots!” Said Harriet as she walked to it.

And rode it!

Not just rode it, but like an Olympic equestrian she galloped magnificently as if on some cross country chase!

She laughed as she swung the crop around and shouted in good old county Squire fashion…”Tally Ho!”

Mr Watson.

Mr Watson was a strict no nonsense sort of chap. If a girl needed to be punished, he punishes her. In his mind he had a very clear and precise list of offences and punishment. He also kept a log, recording naughty girls misdemeanours and severity of punishment.

These ranged from a mild spanking showing mercy, …the humiliation is enough, he thought, in certain circumstances, especially before others. To a full blown thirty six stroke thrashing on the bare, before the whole school, with no mercy.

He was University educated, a Headmaster to be feared, respected and loved.

He knew punishment inside out. He knew how it lasted a lifetime. He would see a young woman in the supermarket with her children and smile, smile in the knowledge that he had striped her bare bottom and seen her pussy. She would know he remembered it and blush.

But, he was fair. 

Fair but firm, could have been written about him.

I think that as a reader, you will like him. I have met him, and can tell you now, it was a joy to meet him.

Let me tell you all about one of his challenges. A young woman called…(if you are a naughty girl it can be you) but for the story it is…Charlotte.

She was rather promiscuous, and very aware of how her beauty and shape could excite boys, and a fair few of her girl friends. Here she is…

She was a clever girl, and quite studious, but she was easily tempted. Especially to show her knickers and more. At lunch time she had been caught no fewer than four times, flashing her knickers to the boys whilst they masturbated.. For fifty pence each!

She had done detention for this, and had received the ruler on the back of her thighs. But she had had her final warning, any more and it would be a much more severe punishment.

She had a lovely singing voice, and was in the school choir. Yesterday they had gone to perform at a Cathedral, and had won second prize. Charlotte sang a solo which bought tears to the audience’s eyes. But afterwards, the bishop had gone into the vestry to congratulate them, only to find Charlotte in her choir outfit, legs wide open, and knickerless before a group of boys from the Grammer School.

She had just thrown her knickers onto the floor, they were all wanking madly to shoot all over them, and she was saying she would wear them on the bus home! These were the words he heard as he entered!

The poor Bishop had nearly fainted, and rang Mr Watson immediately, telling him that he will withdraw the choir’s award if he does not deal with the matter to his satisfaction.

Mr. Watson told him that he would deal with it, first thing in the morning, by spanking the girl on the bare, and giving her the cane too, also promising to ask her Mummy to come in to school after, with a view to suspending her daughter for a fortnight.

 

 

 

 

The Welcome Home

 

There is a young woman, named Samantha, who loves to act the role of a 1950’s style submissive housewife…

I am still working on the story, but all the photos are taken.

Let’s jump from fantasy to real life for a moment ….Samantha Alexander is a lovely broad minded, naughty young woman, but her Mummy follows her on Twitter, and so she does not want anything too naughty on there. We don’t want her Mummy spanking her do we?

YES YES YES…I know you do, I would love to see it myself.

But it is all about being a gentleman and respecting a friend’s wishes. So please do not copy and post any of these on Social Media.

A hot summers day sees Samantha come back from one of her modelling assignments, to her beautiful house.

I have noticed over the years that the warmer the weather, or a room, even in winter, the naughtier she gets. As she closed the door behind her she was glad to feel the coolness of her home.

It did nothing to cool her ardour. She was aroused.

Samantha projects her wonderful image to the world via her web sites, but in the privacy of her own home, she loves to behave like an obedient wife of the 1950’s, where a girl was spanked, often, when her husband decided she needed it.

Her mind began to wander, her maid Kate had left her home in a beautiful state, a long day at leisure beckoned…so do did her pussy. The crotch of her yoga pants were already developing a damp patch.

Aprons!

Maybe to you it is a strange thought to pop into her head. But to Samantha, they epitomised the devoted submissive wife of her favourite decade. Her idol in life was Marilyn Monroe, it was her who initially sparked her interest in the era. She saw a photo set of her once, wearring an apron and loved the way it showed her waist and legs off.

Close by to where she lived was An old Hall, and it’s illustrious owner in the 1950’s, was an unlikely friend of Marilyn.  To think that her favourite had trod the grass so close to where she lived, was one of the reasons she purchased the house.

From a local antique and collectible centre, she had accrued a little collection, and they were stored in a cupboard close by, she turned to go and look. Her house was quite immaculate, everything had a place, and Kate her maid had to keep everything in its place. Usually, she succeeded.

There they were, all freshly laundered, in a neat little pile. She took three out and took them to the table.

Where she decided which one to wear today. The black one with flowers.

She found it sexy, in a spanking way, to remain dressed on the top half, but to be bare under the apron. She got changed.

I think you will agree that the apron looked lovely, but in a way, spoilt a lovely view!

But not from the back, as you can see…

Here she is putting the other aprons away in the storage cabinet.

She started doing a few chores, not that many needed doing really, but she knew the postman was coming soon.

She liked to be seen you see. Always in a subtle way, she knew he watched, she knew he dropped his trousers and pants to have a good hard wank, but she never let him know, that she knew.

Across the way from her garden was a woman called Claudia, a busybody. She would constantly look from the windows of her house, for anything. She was the chairwoman of the local neighbourhood watch committee.

Looking over a wall, or hedge, into a garden was not unknown!

Over the past six months alone, she had reported Samantha to Mr Jones eight times. He was a professional disciplinarian who came to see Samantha now and then, to satisfy her need for a spanking.

He was much older than Samantha, and between them, they had led Claudia to believe he was a strict uncle. When Samantha went away, she told her to ring her Uncle if anything was amiss. The first time she rang him about two windows left open, he said she should be more careful and would spank her on her return home. Claudia feigned shock, but was delighted.

They made sure she could see when she was spanked, and sure enough they spotted her looking. Well, to be exact, Samantha did, as she looked up from her spanking. Since that day two things have happened…

Claudia became extra diligent in her duties.

and

Claudia began having the best orgasms of her life! Both as she watched the punishments, and as she thought of the punishments in her ‘alone time’.

As I said, Samantha started doing a few jobs in the kitchen, waiting for the gate to click, and then aim her bare bottom towards the kitchen window.

One of her many passions is baking, often trying to match a creation from her favourite T.V. Programme. She baked some muffins…

She did a few more little chores in the kitchen, the postman could have arrived ten minutes ago, or ten minutes from now. She knew he had a big…(now now!) …postal round to cover, and could not be precise in his calling time. She stood to smell the baking and waited.

She heard footsteps approaching…So, she dashed to the sink, and washed a cup. She saw the postman walk across her yard to the back door.

The postman pushed his Mail through the letter box and turned…he was not dissappointed, once again she put on a show.

Claudia pressed her nose to her window as he took hold of his throbbing manhood, let his trousers and pants fall to the floor and pull his loose foresking back and forth over his swollen head until hot creamy sperm shot onto the window to run down, sticky and steaming. It only took a minute, this is what he saw…

She waited until he was almost ready to shoot onto her window before she turned to bend over, it was at that moment she heard him groan, and a wet splat, splat, splat on the glass!

Why not do the same?

Expand the next photo, spurt on her window as she wiggles her naughty bare bottom for you! Can you see her looking at your throbbing desperate cock? 

Ooooh, was that nice Mr.Postman?

The timer on the cooker ‘tinged’ and Samantha got her buns out!

Now come on! You know very well I mean the buns in the oven!

And put them on a cooling rack on her ample worktop.

Claudia rang me to report her wayward neighbour, and I thanked her. I told her that if she looks out for me, she will see Samantha get a sound bare bottom spanking soon after my arrival.

As Samantha was surveying her lovely buns, I rang…

Her phone was docked and on speaker.

I told her that she had been reported for flashing her bare bottom to the postman whilst he masturbated looking through the window, and that she must be ready and in position for a damn good bare bottom spanking on my arrival at 5.00 that evening.

I  could not see her, we were not on face time like when she masturbates for me. But I could imagine her naughty face as she squirmed!

I told her to go and get in a spanking position now, because I was going to ring Claudia back and tell her, and she was sure to look. We both knew that Claudia would rub her pussy frantically as she did so.

Samantha took a bite of a bun, and then went, ‘to assume the position’.

I rang Claudia and told her. Two minutes later, her knickers were down as she sat by the window looking at Samantha presenting her bottom. “Oh young lady! You are going to get such a spanking!”

Samantha knew exactly how Claudia’s fingers would be frigging away on her dripping wet cunt, and wiggled her bottom, to help her orgasm!

She gave her what she thought would be enough time to orgasm, and moved on. That is when it began…

She was excited, Mr Jones was visiting. He was coming to punish her. It was what he did, either to fulfil a sexual fantasy, or a deep need to ease a guilty conscience of a girl with a spanking need.

He was a Professional Disciplinarian and had lots of clients, the vast majority female, aged between 25 and upwards, to around 50. She liked him, a lot. He was much older, which she wanted. A sort of father figure, a strict Uncle, or a Headmaster. He scared her a little, and took no nonsense. He punished a naughty girl as he saw fit, and the punishment only finished when he decided. There was no safe word. “What’s the point of a safe word? It is a punishment. The naughty girl has no say in the matter. You consent to that, in writing, or you look elsewhere.” Was what he had said. And she had signed on the ‘bottom line’. She was in his charge, she was in his care, and that was it…simple.

She began to walk around the house, putting herself in spanking positions and corner time. By the time he came she would be at the dizzy height of spanking arousal. He would know this of course, he knew all things spanking. That is why he sometimes positioned her at the corner of furniture, so she could push and rub to orgasm as he spanked. He even suggested having a corner of the table made special, by fastening a piece of red padded, rough textured, leather. For her pussy to rub hard on. Maybe even protruding a little, to fit between the legs.

“But people would ask!” She said.

“Exactly”, he replied.

She was thinking about it. 

First she placed herself in the position she would greet him in tonight.

Beginning to thrust, she was getting excited, but delayed her orgasm. “Now, now Samantha, delay it!” She told herself as she walked to stand with her back to the stairs. 

Images of past corner times began to drift through her mind…

So she put her hands on her head and stood on display, as she often had to under his instruction. Always ordered not to turn, and to stand in silence until told to move, and definitely no rubbing.

Although Mr Jones was not there, she could feel his eyes on her bottom. Often as she stood there she could hear him breath steadily, she wished she could hear him now.

But in another few hours he will be.

The clock in its old oak case ticked slowly. She felt a trickle of juice leave her pussy and run into the dimple of her upper inner thigh, nestled in her crutch. How on earth would she last until he came. The thought of her masturbation room came into her mind, and a slow journey towards it began.

In her apron pocket was a duster, she began to polish the bannister rail, her mind drifting to all the spankings she had had in her lovely home. 

She smiled to herself as she remembered a spanking on the stairs. He had gone up them and found the bannister sticky, she confessed to straggling it to masturbate and not wiping it. 

If asked, Samantha would admit to being an exhibitionist, and showing herself at the window was a passion. Mr Jones had punished her in the same places where she had done this, which of course she knew she would love.

Upon reaching the first window a particularly long painful spanking with a hairbrush came to mind. She recalled seeing Claudia with her binoculars!

How she pushed her bottom up for it, and how Claudia’s binoculars wobbled as her other hand busied itself in her wet bush.

Turning the corner of the stairwell she walked up to the landing. Here, more images of past spankings came to mind.

The sound of the slipper landing on her plump cheeks, the sound of my voice chastising her, and the deep sinking pain after the initial sting, flooded her mind.

Her masturbation room was down the hallway, she thought of going there next, but an imaginary voice called her into the next room, her bedroom. The voice belonged to one of her heroes, Marilyn Monroe. She fantasised about her. Lesbian fantasies of domination, submission and octane fuelled sex!

The voice told the naughty girl to enter.

At first she did not look at the picture on the wall, she imagined Marilyn looking at her, scrutinising her as she polished.

She imagined dropping the expensive ornament, maybe it could be an Oscar! She imagined Marilyn being so very cross.

“Samantha! You naughty girl! Pass me the cane!”

“Now bend over before your Mistress, assume the position!”

“Yes Mistress Marilyn.”

“Now get on the presentation chair, display yourself to me!”

 

 

After staying there for five minutes, she imagined Marilyn coming back, naked, with a huge ‘strap on’. “Get over the edge of the bed…you dirty little bitch! Beg me for this!”

“Fuck me Marilyn! Fuck me please!” She shouted to the empty house.

Imagine that if you will! Marilyn Monroe fucking Samantha Alexander with a huge strap on! After caning her! Hmm, fantasies don’t get much better than that for me! I need to have a wank!

Whew! Five minutes later, feeling relaxed, I will carry on for you!

…she left her bedroom, feeling moist and walked down the corridor to her masturbation room. Stopping at the mirror next to it, she looked at her reflection, smiled, and went in.

The bed in this room was soft and springy, she bounced up on to it and grabbed the headboard. Looking outside she could see other gardens. A couple had people in, and she could see movement behind one of Claudia’s curtains. “Does she never stop busybodying?”

She decided to give her something to look at….SMACK! She began to spank her own bottom! “I bet you wish you could spank me!” …smack, smack, smack!

The sound of the smacks, the sting, and the sensation, we’re all too much! She had to get her fingers in her wet pussy without delay!

She lay on the bed, opened her legs, lifted her apron and began playing with herself…

Oh God, her need was so great that a first pulse of orgasm twitched as soon as she caressed her erect clit. Her mounds were swollen. She slid fingers in, then rubbed, she was so excited, and so much in need, that she did not know what to do next…she just needed to cum!

“Ohhhh Mr Jones, I am such a naughty girl! Chastise me! Tell me I am naughty and need a spanking…ohhh fuck!….on my bare bottom! Yes, spank me Sir, please, oh fucking hell…ooooh!”

With her fingers pumping in and out of her wet pussy, and the force of her palm sending delicious fucking pulsations through the whole of her groin, she orgasmed in a magnificent way…”Oh yes Mr.Jones, spank my bottom, punish me! I’m your naughty girl! Spank me…spank me! Yesssssss!”

The orgasm was so great, and her pumping up and down so exerting, that she felt as if she had just had a really good fuck. Her eyes drooped as she lay in that cosy room.

She was still asleep as I pulled up. As the gate did its usual solid ‘clunk’ her eyes opened. As I knocked on the stout porch door she realised it was me, and stirred. I have my own little melody for a knock.

I heard footsteps thundering down the stairs, so I knocked again for dramatic effect…louder.

I glanced up at Claudia, who had one hand on her binoculars and the other in her knickers. I could tell by the rhythm of the lenses.

 

 

more soon!…..be patient!…

 

 

 

 


Tamara, the making of a Domme

Tamara is in her sixth year, and is a very well respected girl at her school. Diligent, and dutiful in her work, as well as a fun loving friend to know, she was quite rightly a very popular girl.

At her time at school she had seen a lot of girls punished, quite often on the bare bottom over a teacher’s knee, man or woman, and very often bent over touching their toes or kneeling on some punishment furniture.

Ever since the day she first saw it happen, it intrigued and excited her. Many a night in bed, before sleep, would be spent with her fingers working in her warm, moist pussy as she imagined punishing another girl, or, more often, one of the boys from the school the other side of town. How she wished her school was mixed, instead of being all girls. She would love to see a naughty boy, bent over, pants down, squealing like a girl as some Master curled some rattan cane around his naughty cheeks.

It was well known that the boys school had much harder punishments too. Some in front of the whole school! The number of strokes was higher too, up to 24 strokes on the bare in extreme cases.

So it has to be said, that even in her formative years, spanking was in her mind. Nowadays in her adulthood, approaching her prime, she is an adored Domme, dealing with naughty boys and girls bottoms every day she can, as well as being a much sought after model.

How did she develop into this woman, from being an ‘A’ grade school girl with her fantasies.

Well sit down, rest a while, and let me tell you all about it…

It all all began on an April day. Miss Cooper had asked her to collect some photocopying she had done for Tamara, it was for a project she was doing on ‘the Tunnels of Welbeck Abbey’. She had left it in a locked study room for her to collect, and Mr G.Reece overheard.

He was a well respected member of staff, but a lot of the girls found him a little too much at times. He stood too close when in their personal space, when he was describing something on a one to be be basis. It made them feel a little uneasy.

The truth of the matter was that secretly, Mr Reece was very fond of young girls bottoms and using his phone, he had amassed quite a collection of ‘up skirt’ photographs of the sixth form girls over the years.

He took his opportunity , given inadvertently by Miss Cooper, and raced to the room in question to find the photo copying and hide it right at the back of the bottom drawer in a small cabinet. Every teacher had a master key for study rooms and detention rooms.

Then he waited in the room opposite for Tamara, who had gone to the janitors to pick up and sign the logbook for the key, to go in, and start searching for the papers

He walked in, stealthily and watched. He reached for his phone, his hand brushing by his erect manhood. The prospect of seeing this girls knickers excited him, he had been waiting for an opportunity for ages.

The right pocket of his trousers had a carefully made hole in, his manhood was thrusting and throbbing through, the pulsating purple head almost on view. He trapped his cock between his finger and thumb to give it a few quick strokes as he stood, being careful not to go by the point of no return.

Oh it felt so good stroking away, knowing the risk, knowing that she had no idea, he thought about speeding the stroking up, and coming in his palm, (he had pretended to catch a sneeze in his handkerchief on many an occasion) but just before the sensation began to move into ‘the zone’, he stopped.

He coughed, “Hello Tamara, what are you doing in here?”

“Oh I am just looking for some photocopying Miss Cooper left for me.”

“Oh right, I wondered why the door was open, last time she left something for me, it was in the bottom drawer.”

“Oh really? I’ll have a look.” She said as she reached over.

He moved in, phone at the ready.

Her skirt rode up to reveal her tight, white school knickers, stretched across the firm ripe cheeks of her plump bottom.

“Oh it’s that blasted drawer again Tamara, it seems to scrape papers right to the back if the drawer is full, push your hand right inside, try to reach to the back.”

“Okay Mr. Reece…uuuuuuurgh!”

Oh what a sight! It was the best he had ever seen, he moved in for the perfect shot.

Unfortunately for him, he had left the volume on his phone to an ‘outdoor setting’ the click of the sound like a camera shutter shouted out…’I am taking a photo of your bottom!”

Tamara spun around in a flash, literally, just as the phone camera flashed. He had his settings to ‘auto’ and bending down so far in the darker corner made his camera flash. Poor Mr Reece, known to his fellow teachers as Meticulous Reece had slipped up, simply because he had acted on the spur of the moment. He was flustered, he had never been so unprepared! Always…ALWAYS! He had carefully planned his shots. In an instant he could see his life, his reputation, and his sacred pension begin to crumble, before his eyes.

“Mr Reece! You are taking photos of my bum and knickers….you dirty beast!”

“I….I….was, er…..I …I….I” spluttered the panicking Mr.Reece.

“Pass me that phone!” Shouted Tamara.

He was like a spectator at his own downfall. The evidence was there before him, he knew she was to see it any second, but his feet were rooted to the spot, he was speechless, and frozen in time.

His chance of survival was gone, she moved in and saw herself there on the screen.

“That, Mr Reece, is my school knicker clad bottom! On your phone! Kindly tell me why it is there…hmmmm?”

“Furthermore Mr.Reece, I suspect there are many more! Come on, it’s too late now, show me! I think Mr.Jones our Headmaster will want to see this! And, the police! You are finished Mr.Reece, you disgusting man!”

Mr.Reece fell to his knees, to beg. Tamara was surprised and delighted. To have a man of Mr.Reeves stature begging for mercy, on his knees before her was like a switch being turned in her head. She loved the feeling, and joy spread across her face as the sniveling grovelling man said…

“Please, please Miss Kenworthy, don’t report me, do anything you like, anything at all, I will comply with any request, just don’t report me! I beg you, please Miss, please!”

“Okay Mr.Reece. I won’t. After school meet me in here, I will decide on your fate as the day goes by. AND REMEMBER…you said ANYTHING! Now leave!”

Mr Reece spent the next hour as happy, cheerful and courteous as he had felt for years. Nothing was to much trouble for anyone. What a relief. But as the school clocks ticked along in unison a feeling of foreboding settled on him. What would she do?

After school he went to the same room, and walked in, head bowed in shame. She was stood there looking powerful. He had never felt so submissive in his life.

She beckoned him with her crooked finger. He walked like a naughty boy might to his Mummy, to have his bottom spanked.

“You have been a naughty boy Mr.Reece, and naughty boys get their naughty little bottoms punished. Come here!”

His manhood rose, she watched the tip of his cock swell, and smiled.

“Here is what we are going to do. I have seen you in your tennis kit, and must say that you keep trim Mr.Reece. I have it on good authority that the boys across town have to come for the cane in their P.E. outfit. Go and put it on….NOW!”

He trotted down the corridor to the staff room and put it on, then jogged back. He got his breath back, and entered the room, whereupon she told him to lock the door.

“Come here you naughty boy!”

He stood before her, meekly.

“I am going to punish you hard Mr.Reece.”

“Yes Miss Kenworthy.”

“I think we will have those shorts off boy!”

Trembling fingers undid his shorts and he removed them for his young Mistress.

She told him to go to the stool and bent to pick his discarded shorts up.

She gently placed them on a desk and turned to survey her quivering prey. Her pussy began to throb excitedly, the anticipation was lovely.

The feeling of being in control of what up until now had been a person in authority was a new experience to her, and she liked it. “Underpants down Mr Reece, bare your bottom for me!”

He lowered them without question. He was old, but in good shape. How she wished she was a teacher at the boys school, ‘just imagine’ she thought, ‘having one of those loud mouthed young tear-aways baring their quivering bottoms for me.

Then her thoughts went through a miriad of scenarios, and surprisingly mature men, proper men, with responsible jobs grovelling before her thrilled her to the core. It was almost like a mild orgasm.

It was wonderful. She looked at his bottom, bare. She looked at him, trembling. She began to talk, and instinctively, she did it rather well.

“You are a very naughty boy Mr Reece, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Call me Miss.”

“Yes Miss.”

Being called Miss excited her more. “And what do naughty boys get? Hmmm?”

“Spanked bottoms Miss.”

“Yes they do! They get really red sore bottoms, which stops them sitting down for ages don’t they?”

“Yes Miss.”

“And you, are a very….naughty…boy!”

She leaned in close to him and shouted…”Aren’t You!!!” It scared him, and surprised him. Her voice was full of authority.

He almost squealed…”Yes, yes Miss! I’m a naughty boy!”

THIS STORY IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION HERE ON MY BLOG, BEFORE I TRANSFER IT TO MY SITE, FINISHED.

IT IS STRAIGHT OUT OF MY HEAD, AND WILL NEED EDITING. THINGS MIGHT CHANGE TOO, SO POP BY OFTEN!