It tells you who ‘Upskirt Evans’ is in detail, but briefly…
A dear woman I met on here was telling me of her spankings as a girl, and I was using my girls to tell her story. She went for the cane to her Headmistress often, and although she did the caning, it was the School Secretary who assisted, by lifting the skirt etc.
She is a bit poorly, and it seems unlikely our contact will continue. So I am using what she told me to carry on.
Samantha is acting the Headmistress
Charlotte is acting Miss Evans
Stephanie is acting Karen
There are lots to come…
The Headmistress is sat in her office, there is an expected knock on the door…
In comes Miss Evans, and Karen, who has lost her temper in a hockey match and whacked another girl across the bottom with her hockey stick.
She is crying, if you go to see the Headmistress at this time of the day, it means one thing….a spanking, or worse….she has just seen the canes and tawses.
“Feeling sorry for yourself eh? I think you are feeling upset because you have been caught losing control and attacking a girl from ‘The Violet Marks Academy’. Their headmistress has been in touch before your bus got back! I have a good mind to wallop your bottom a dozen times with your hockey stick out on the hockey field!Let me have a look at your record.” She looked at the punishment records that the efficient Miss Evans passed her.
“Well, up until now young lady, you have been a good girl. I see I have spanked you before, n your knickers. THEY ARE COMING DOWN TODAY!”
Miss Evans watched her squirm as the news was given.
The Headmistress looked to her Secretery after considering what to do. “Hmmmm. Prepare her bare bottom for a bare bottom, long… hard! Spanking Miss Evans!”
“Awww…wwww…waaaah, no Miss, please Miss not on my…”
“Be quiet, don’t be silly! Let’s act grown up and get this done with! Carry on Miss Evans.”
“Of course, Headmistress.”
She looked to the ashen, tear streaked Karen. “Put your hockey stick on the desk Karen.”
“Now come back to the carpet, and face the wall behind the flogging horse. Then bend over.”
“The path you have started to tread today could very well end up with the flogging horse where you are stood, with your upturned bare bottom for six of the best with the cane! Think about that Karen!”
Miss Evans moved in to bare Karen’s bottom. She lifted her skirt to reveal bottle green school knickers.
Scroll down the story and it splits into three directions, you’ll find it, and I think you will enjoy the search!
After riding the bannister rail to orgasm, our two delightful young friends continue cleaning the stairs. They reach a window overlooking the garden where you have just seen them hang out their knickers on the washing line.
They clean it…
This is a short section, but I just could not go by this window with them. It invited me to stop. The photos are not revealing either, I know. But this lovely old house, just seemed to welcome us, and asked at every corner, it would have been a shame not to stop a while.
Atmospheric aren’t they. I now wish I had dashed downstairs and taken a photo looking up from outside….but I didn’t….lol
Can you see the rail on the landing? They spank each other when they reach that!
…after their shared spankings and masturbation down stairs, they came to the stairs. It was time to go up to do a few jobs and probably play. However, the act of getting up the stairs was never straight forward. The bannister rail is always a little sticky because they use it to rub against on occasions and take it in turns to go behind each other, to look at the view, or be viewed. Both equally exciting for our naughty pair.
It was Samantha’s turn to ride on the top deck, knowing her dear friend would be looking at her pussy as she rode the rail. Charlotte was excited to be behind, watching her friend’s bottom pump and pussy grind. They wiped the rail and mounted it.
“Oh Samantha, I love to see your bottom push up and down, bobbing away faster and faster.” Said Charlotte sexily.
“Then I will exaggerate my actions for you sweetheart.” Smiled Samatha as she straddled the bannister rail.
“Mmmmm, please do!” Encouraged Charlotte.
Then like two horses, they were off! Bottoms bobbing, pussies grinding, one watching eagerly, the other showing herself just as eagerly….moans from both added to the erotically charged atmosphere.
Tits bounced, buttocks wobbled, pussies squelched to orgasm, as they rode the bannister as if in the Grand National…both orgasmed together, quite heroically!
They let the rail dry on its own, as the day passed, they would enjoy the naughty sticky reminder. Then calmly, almost as if the gallop had not happened, they polished the stairs.
In the shadows and sweet light, the girls made their way upwards…
Their walk around the garden concluded with a little dead heading of some flowers.
It is at this point, not far in to the warm sultry day, that the girls minds begin to take them on trips of naughtiness, like masturbation, each other’s bottom appreciation, and spanking, which is never far from their minds.
The butterfly flew away and The two girls carried on their walk.
They sauntered down a path, bees were busy on the pretty purple-blue ‘Grandma’s Bonnets’, the sound and scent of early summer hung heavily in the warm air. They passed through a wrought iron gate into the orchard and lawns…
They passed by the curious and large ‘Wendy House’ by the trees, towards their house.
And on to their pond. “I can hear frogs!” Said Samantha, as they approached their pond.
“Ooooh frogs. They are okay, so long as they don’t move! I find them a bit scary when they do.” Commented Charlotte.
“I doubt they will. They seem to spend their life not moving with just their heads poking out from the pondweed!” Giggled back Samantha as they paused to look.
I know that lots of you have a ‘soft spot’…(hmmm come to think of it, it is probably a hard spot!) for Charlotte and Samantha. Well, the other day I spent a few hours with them, just a normal day. I thought you might like to share it with me. I just pottered around behind them with my camera, let’s see what transpired…
After finishing a cup of tea and cake, for elevenses, the girls go out into their garden, to hang some of their knickers out to dry on the washing line. It’s a lovely old house they share together.
It was a bright, warm, breezy day. Just right for the knickers.
It got even breezier and it started to lift their skirts up, which made them giggle. Charlotte said to Samantha, “Doesn’t that breeze feel lovely on your bottom? I love doing outdoor shoots, thanks Asa. Let’s let the breeze blow on our bottom a lot more, I am sure Asa won’t object!”
::chuckle:: I didn’t!
“You’ve no knickers on Samantha.” I commented.
“Hmmm I know, they are on the line because they got damp already!”
With a smile and walking a little like a camera tripod, I followed them further…
…and on to part two, which concerns butterflies and bottom marks! Click here…
Chapter 2: Miss Kenworthy, the ‘Head of Discipline
To see the rest, click on ‘Photo Stories’ and scroll down to story number 74
There had been a meeting of the ‘Board of Governors’ at Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls. The success of my methods here since we became an Academy of Correction, has made it almost full.
I can no longer manage just on my own, so I have asked for help with discipline. I still intend to carry on when I can, but what the school really needed was a full time disciplinarian. Let me tell you about our choice.
The meeting went well. They backed me completely and unanimously 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. We had lots of applicants and Interviews were held over the summer holidays. I feel that we made an excellent choice, hiring a young lady named Miss Tamara Kenworthy.
And so it was that, on the first day of the new term, 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.
…it was just below the photos of Head and Deputy Head, in a line of Senior Staff and Heads of Department. You would see this photograph of Miss Kenworthy, with the title ‘Miss Kenworthy, 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 suddenly they all stopped as Miss Kenworthy clip-clopped her way towards 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 out, and replaced it with the one below. It showed her holding a black, harsh looking punishment stick. It was not a cane, but something altogether more sinister!
I was watching from the balcony which ran around the reception quadrangle, just outside my office…the Headmaster’s Office. I nodded in satisfaction at her first dramatic move in the ‘Game of Discipline’ that 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 plimsoll.
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’. This was the name she had chosen for the room as most girls who visited it would be ‘on report’. The room now had two chairs outside, and a stack of six more inside just in case they were needed on special occasions. 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 on which was scrawled ‘Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.’ Something straight out of ‘Dante’s Inferno’! Tamara removed it and had it framed. She kept it at home, a keepsake she would value forever, along with many others.
I asked her to come and see me after her appointment. 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 as it was her domain. She moved some 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 cane 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 diameters. Over the years to come she would make great friends with a Miss Alexander, who as you can see here, made excellent canes. On many occasions, she was only too happy to let Miss Kenworthy ‘try them out’ on her. After all, good customers must be kept happy!
Slowly but surely her equipment came, including a thick, hard backed, leather bound punishment book.
Much of her time was spent alone as it was still the summer holidays and the teaching staff hadn’t yet arrived back at school. 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 a naked girl’s buttocks.
The room smelled beautifully. 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 that 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 panes made her feel glad to be in her cosy room. She locked the door and slowly walked around, caressing the desks with her long, slender fingers. She imagined the cool shock of the wood on a naked schoolgirl’s belly as she was draped over them, bare bottom presented, with her knickers around her ankles.
She just loved everything about spanking.
Her thoughts developed into a little fantasy, a masturbation fantasy. She began to breathe deeply as she rubbed her groin against the edge of a desk rhythmically. She straightened and her hands ran up her hips. Gripping the hem of her skirt, she slowly dragged it up to reveal her delightful, see-through black knickers….
…which she then pulled down. The cool air caressed her bottom.
She pulled her cheeks apart, and the cool air drifted into the hole of her bottom and made her take a sharp intake of breath as she realized how wet she was becoming.
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 drifted back to her own school spankings. She recalled how she had hoped that one day she would be delivering rattan to bare bottoms, as the teacher was delivering it to hers.
And now, here she was being paid to spank and cane. How absolutely wonderful, a dream come true!
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 searched for on-line to aid her masturbation. The knickers she pulled down were not hers. They were her old white school knickers.
She spoke to herself…
”Bare your bottom for a spanking, Tamara, 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 her 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 pieces of apparatus to punish the girls over. It also saw her go to a local shopping mall to buy a school uniform similar to what she wore in her masturbation fantasy. She wanted to know how it felt and how high gym-slips would ride up. She thought naughtily, behind her locked door, that she could dress up whenever she liked to fulfill her private ‘naughty schoolgirl’ fantasies.
And so it was that Miss Kenworthy began to test out her equipment, with her hair in a ponytail like she wore at school and wearing a gymslip. It was a little short, but she loved it. Most girls at the school wore short ones anyway. She wanted to look like the girls she would punish.
She put two of the chairs from her stack back-to-back, which was how pupils at Winchester School were punished. 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 over them.
‘‘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 resting on the seat.” She said to herself.
“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, whilst 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 rock backwards and then WHACK!, send them forwards again! Oooooh imagine one of those haughty ‘know it all’ types sat astride this, especially 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 liking 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. She was so wet now 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 drying rack. She liked a girl to have something to grip onto whilst she was spanked.
“Oh my! I think this will present the bottom well for a caning!”
She bent over and gripped a rail.
“Oh yes Tamara, a few will wet their knickers over this before their knickers are unceremoniously yanked down!”
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 using this!”
“Oh wow! If they try to grip their scorching cheeks, they’ll drop over! Same if they try to resist a blow… ‘Ohhhhh Miss Kenworthy!’ You could bring blisters to a fine upturned rump on here!”
Her bottom had never been presented so well. She could feel the lips on her pussy open as she was so stretched!
Over the next few days she tried out most of her apparatus. She also investigated various places in the room where a miscreant could simply bend over and touch their toes, so that she could 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.
However, something alluded her. She needed the ultimate way of shaming and humiliating a girl. It wasn’t until 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 that 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, and she got in to school early, dressed in her favorite red and black.
Everything was in place, as she caressed her implements.
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…
Waiting to be punished…
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 in 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. 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!
Girls soon learned to fear Miss Kenworthy, and being told they were being put on report, meant something rather painful was inevitable.
Yet it has to be remembered that these girls were at the extreme end of naughtiness. They were the wayward girls of Saint Helena’s High School. They were sent here because other schools could not cope with them. So all of them were naughty to the core…cheeky and defiant, rude and full of bratty behavior. Many were petty criminals, sent straight from court. They were here to be sorted, taught how to behave and educated. Miss Tamara Kenworthy was at the ‘sorting-out’ end, paid to punish their naughty bottoms in a much more severe way than would happen in mainstream schools.
Her first week came to a very satisfactory end. She really loved it here!