Category Archives: PHOTO STORIES

Robyn X’s Naughty Reads…

Robyn as you all know by now is my editor. I take my photos and write a story. Quite well too I think, but us writers need someone like Robyn, who then moves in to tidy it all up for you.

My imagination is paramount to my blog, you see me on your screen. But I want it to look as good as I can, and have been blessed by finding my dear Robyn. My blog gets better every day because of her, she frees my time to create more and more.

However, she can be a little shy, and likes to hide away in the background.

She is pretty, shapely and yes, I would love to use her as a model. But it is not for her, and as always, I respect the wishes of a young lady, well, any woman of course, what man worth his salt doesn’t?

So I have coaxed her out, with the proviso that on paper, she leaves her inhibitions and ideally her knickers, at my studio door, and in this section, be the naughty minx that lies beneath.

My dear Robyn, I have known you a while now. You are a delight.

However, I have seen you after red wine, and then you are sensational, the ideas that come out of your mouth when lubricated with grapes is quite something to behold. You become Robyn X.

So, when in your apartment, which I must compliment you on, have a glass or three, then put on that lovely school uniform you have, with no knickers please, and let Robyn ‘X’ loose.

When in this section, you are not my studious researcher, nor my pretty secretary, nor my lovely close friend who drinks tea and eats cake with me.

Now….although I do like it when you sit on my knee…..and talk over ideas, and go through corrections etc…. I want this to be that lovely naughty girl inside…

So on here, in this, your very own section…you are my dear ROBYN X


No – 1 …what she made for my birthday.

No – 2 …her first erotic words, concerning birch rods in her life.

No – 3 …concerning birch rods, and orgasms….I can see a theme developing here.

No – 4 …..concerning a dressage whip and a bare, male, bottom.

No – 5 ….concerning a historic piece of spanking writing, with superb illustrations.


I have entrusted Robyn with a rather large set of photos I took of a marvellous spanking. My photos, her writing, based on my original idea.


When will my Aunty be satisfied?


Robyn Jones

17-year old Megan Thomas was a very spoilt young lady indeed. She had been brought up single-handedly by her mother, Bethen, after her husband, Owen Thomas, had died not long after Megan’s birth. Fortunately, Owen had left a small fortune for his wife, so she wanted for nothing. Bethen doted on her daughter and indulged her every whim. She had never been able to say no to her daughter and, by the time Megan reached her teens, Megan ruled the roost. She knew exactly how to wrap her mother around her little finger.
In a late attempt to bring her daughter under some semblance of control, Bethen had enrolled her daughter in an exclusive private girls’ school in the hope that it would tame her adolescent behaviour. However, the school seemed to have no more success in controlling Megan than her mother. Despite frequent dressing downs, numerous detentions, countless lines and punishment essays, Megan proved more than a match for the teaching staff. Unfortunately the headmistress was not a great believer in corporal punishment, which might have stood a better chance of bringing the naughty little minx under control if it had been employed. Only rarely did she use the cane and when she did it was often little more than a token gesture. Bethen had been summoned on a number of occasions by the headmistress to ‘discuss’ Megan’s behaviour and each time she had felt very ashamed. On her last visit to the headmistress Bethen had been informed that, if Megan continued to flout the rules, she would be suspended from school and, if that didn’t work, then she would be forced to expel her.
Bethen was in despair. She had tried to confront Megan about her behaviour, but Megan had dismissed the school as being far too old fashioned, operating under an out-of-date system of unnecessarily silly rules and regulations. It needed to reform itself and enter the twentieth century! Getting nowhere, Bethen decided to seek the advice of her older sister, Miss Kathryn Williams.
Kathryn was in her late-30s. She was a much more forceful character than Bethen. Unlike her younger sister, she had never married and seemed to prefer the company of women rather than men. She had trained as a teacher and had worked for a number of years in a girls’ boarding school, ending up as a senior housemistress in one of the school’s boarding houses. Unlike Megan’s day school, Kathryn’s school was far more ‘traditional’, regularly enforcing discipline by means of corporal punishment. As a senior housemistress, Kathryn had the role of disciplining the girls in her charge. She was well-versed in how to effectively spank, strap and even cane her charges when they warranted such punishment. Although she was always very fair in her treatment of the girls, she secretly enjoyed her disciplinary role and took great delight in baring their bottoms. Although it excited her sexually, she never overstepped the mark and usually relieved her arousement later in the privacy of her own flat.
When Bethen came to see her after her last visit to Megan’s headmistress, Kathryn listened quietly to her sister’s tale of woe. If she felt any emotion about how her niece had been behaving, she did well to conceal it. Of course, she blamed her sister for being too soft on the girl, but that really didn‘t excuse Megan’s behaviour.
When her sister finally finished her diatribe about Megan, Kathryn sat there for a few minutes thinking, before responding, “Well, Bethen, I’m not exactly surprised that Megan’s has got so out of hand. She has been allowed to get away with things for far too long. You clearly have indulged her every whim and fancy, and she now has you twisted around her little finger. You’ve been far too soft on her. Adolescent girls need a firm hand and I’m afraid that you lack the strength of character to provide that hand.”
“I admit that I have let her get away with murder over the years, but I’ve never had the strength to stand up to her. She’s such a ‘force of nature’. But what am I to do now? I can’t see any way of turning things around and avoiding her being expelled,” Bethen moaned miserably.
“You can’t, but I think I can,” replied Kathryn.
Bethen looked up with a hopeful expression on her face, “Really? Oh, please tell me what you’d propose.”
“Well, for a start Megan would need to stay with me for a while, possibly for a term. She could still attend her present school, but whilst she is living with me, she would have to abide by my rules. If she doesn’t respect those rules, then I’m afraid that I will need your permission to punish her as I would any of the girls in my care in this school.”
“Oh!” replied Bethen, knowing full well of her sister’s reputation for being a strict disciplinarian. “You mean you want me to give you permission to spank her if she misbehaves?”
“Precisely!” said Kathryn, “and if necessary, not just to spank her but to strap or even cane her if I feel her behaviour warrants it!”
“Oh dear! You won’t hurt her, will you?” said Bethen in a rather pathetic voice.
“If a punishment is to work, it must be painful enough to curb her behaviour, otherwise she’ll never be reformed! There’s no point in namby-pambying her. Look where that’s got you!”
“I suppose you are right, Kathryn,” Bethen replied, still sounding a little reluctant and feeling slightly guilty at consigning her daughter to her sister’s ‘gentle care’.
“Good! Now go home and inform her of your decision to get her to stay with me for the rest of the term. Tell her that her Aunt wishes to get to know her better and that you want time to sort out your life!”

All was arranged and Megan dutifully turned up at her Aunt’s house the following week with all her necessary clothes and books. Megan didn’t know her aunt very well and seemed excited to have time away from her mother. She would be free to do whatever she wanted without being constantly nagged…or so she thought!
Things went well for the first week and Megan appeared to be on her best behaviour. However, as she settled into her new existence, she started to relax and revert to her normal self. On a number of occasions Kathryn had to reprimand her, although she had done nothing too dire. However, towards the end of the third week, Kathryn got a phone call from Megan’s headmistress. The wretched girl had been caught skipping lessons and, to make matters worse, she had been discovered in the ‘passionate embrace’ of a sixth former from the boys’ grammar school behind the sports hall. She wanted Kathryn to collect the girl from school immediately as she had decided to suspend Megan for two weeks. She had contemplated expelling Megan, but fortunately had decided to give the girl one more chance.
As Kathryn jumped into her car to fetch Megan, she was furious. She had had to drop everything and find someone to cover for her whilst she was off the school premises. It was high time she brought this young madam up short! She needed to experience a painful lesson that would show her where the boundaries between good and bad behaviour lay!
On reaching Megan’s school, Kathryn had a short talk with the headmistress’ secretary before marching Megan back to her car and driving back to her own school in frosty silence. As Megan stepped out of the car, she suddenly found her Aunt by her side. Grabbing Kathryn by the ear, she hauled Megan up the path to her front door protesting noisily at her treatment, much to the amusement of some of the sixth formers walking past. Megan could overhear one of them laughing and commenting, “Miss Thomas looks furious. That girl’s going to have her bottom roasted, if I’m not mistaken!”
Inside the house Kathryn let go of Megan’s ear and said, “Right, young lady, drop your school bag and follow me into the lounge. We need to have a little talk.”
Megan followed her aunt into the lounge clutching a letter the headmistress had given her to pass on to her aunt. She’d never seen her aunt looking quite so cross as she did now. Kathryn sat down in a leather armchair and took hold of long, thin, crook-handled cane that had been propped against the side of the fireplace. Megan eyed the cane nervously. Kathryn bent the cane across her knees as she stared angrily at Megan for some minutes. Megan didn’t know where to look and stared at the carpet, feeling more and more apprehensive as the silence continued.

Suddenly, Kathryn broke the silence, “You are a very wilful and naughty young lady aren’t you?”
Megan just stood there, still staring at the carpet saying nothing.
Getting no response, Kathryn suddenly shouted at her, pointing with her cane, “Get down on your hands and knees there on the carpet in front of me….GET DOWN RIGHT NOWWWW!!”
Megan quickly sank down onto her knees before her Aunt. She has never been spoken to like this before and, for the first time in her life, obeyed instantly.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I only missed the domestic science lesson, Aunty. The teacher, Mrs Cooke, is useless and I don’t find her lessons very inspiring!” Megan managed to blurt out in an impetuous voice.
“That’s besides the point, young lady. Skipping lessons isn’t acceptable in my book whatever the subject! However, you didn’t just skip the lesson did you? What else were you doing?” replied Kathryn sternly.
“Errrh! Do I have to say?” said Megan.
“Yes! You had better! I want the whole truth. Leave nothing out!”
“Well, errhhh…errrh, I was with someone behind the sports hall, Aunty,”
“I see, you were with someone…and who was this ‘someone’?”
“A boy,” whispered Megan.
“Oh, you were with a boy ….and what were you doing with this boy behind the sports hall pray?”
“Errhhh, well…we were….k…kissing each other,” mumbled Megan.
“Hummph!” Kathryn snorted. Then, noticing the letter Megan was holding, commanded her to pass it to her. Kathryn noticed a slight trembling in Megan’s hand as she handed her the letter. “Not so confident now are you young lady!” thought Kathryn as she started to read the letter, resting her cane on Megan’s shoulder.

“According to this letter, you were found by a member of staff with your knickers around your ankles and the boy’s hand up your skirt. Is that correct?”
Megan blushed furiously, muttering, “Yes, Aunty.”
“Humphh! Disgraceful! I wonder what might have happened next if you hadn’t been disturbed?” commented Kathryn, not expecting an answer this time. “I see that the headmistress punished you before I picked you up.”
Megan thought this was a statement as well, not a question, and said nothing, staring resolutely at the carpet.
“Yes, yes….yes I was punished, Aunty!” squealed Megan, in alarm.
“That’s better,” responded Kathryn in a calmer voice, “And how were you punished, Megan?”
“She caned me, Aunty.”
“Oh yes? How many strokes did she give you?”
“Three strokes, Aunty.”
“Good God, just three strokes! Your headmistress was really ‘pushing the boat out’ wasn’t she!” Kathryn responded sarcastically, before continuing her inquisition, “Did she cane you across your hand or your bottom?”
“My bottom, Aunty,” Megan replied.
“Was it across your bare bottom?” inquired Kathryn.
Megan blushed, “Of course not Aunty, the headmistress only ever canes pupils across their knickers.”
“She’s not much of a disciplinarian then,” snorted Kathryn, appalled at the leniency shown to her niece. “Get over my knee and let me see the damage.”
Megan looked aghast and didn’t move.
Megan almost jumped over her Aunt’s knee, not wishing to find out how serious her Aunt’s threat really was. “Yes, Aunty, right away, Aunty.”
Kathryn put her cane down on the floor and slowly raised Megan’s light blue gingham dress. She then started to peel down her navy blue school knickers.

Megan screeched as she tried to grab her knickers, “What are you doing Aunty! No, please don’t pull my knickers down, I beg you. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Remove your hand this instance, young lady. If I decide to bare your bottom to examine the damage, then I shall, unless of course you’re still hankering after a trip to the front gate!”
Megan reluctantly removed her hand and Kathryn continued to peel her knickers down. She stared at Megan’s virtually unblemished creamy coloured bottom. She could only count two faint cane lines.

I can’t believe it. You call that being punished! There’s barely a mark on your bottom, young lady! I’ll show you what a ‘punished’ bottom really feels and looks like!” spluttered Kathryn.
Then, with a determined look on her face, she grasped Megan tightly around the waist with her left arm and, without warning, landed a very hard slap across Megan’s bottom…. SMACK!
“Yeowwch!” screeched Megan, attempting to roll off Kathryn’s lap. “That hurt! You can’t do this….I’ll tell my mother you hit me.”
“I think you’ll find that your mother won’t say anything. She gave me permission to punish you in any way I felt appropriate if you misbehaved,” replied Kathryn, landing another loud smack across Megan’s cute round rump, making the flesh ripple…
“I can’t believe my mother gave you permission to spank me, you…you…you SADISTIC BITCH!” Megan shouted out, without thinking of the consequences. She was incensed that she was being spanked by her Aunt in such an ignominious position.
“Oh, I think you’ll discover that she did give me full permission to spank your naughty little bottom if I felt you needed it! You’re a spoilt brat who should have been spanked years ago.” So saying landed two more hard slaps to each of Megan’s quivering cheeks…
“Yeeouchhh! Yeowhhh! Aunty, please stop…it hurts! I’m 17 years old, too old to be spanked like a child. You can’t do this.”
“Oh yes I can, and I will! You called me a ‘sadistic bitch’, so I had better live up to my name,“ responded Kathryn, walloping Megan’s squirming bottom across her lap with renewed vigor. “Make yourself comfortable young lady, because I’ve only just started your spanking! You’re going to be here for some time!”

It was not long at all before a huge struggle began, but the strength of her Aunty was such a surprise. Her grip around her waist was vice-like. All she could do was kick and squeal. She realised very quickly that there was no escaping the onslaught on her bare bottom.
SMACK! SMACK! “Ouchhh! yeeeowhh!”
SMACK! SMACK! “Arghhh! eeehhh!”
Megan’s bottom was beginning to sting and burn unbearably. “How much longer must I endure this?” Megan thought. She looked over her shoulder at her Aunt’s hand remorselessly rising and falling …SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Surely she’ll stop soon when she’s satisfied I’ve been punished enough. Her arm must be tiring and her hand must be stinging almost as much as my poor bottom.” She glanced at her Aunt’s face, but found no comfort. All she saw was a look of eager excitement in her Aunt’s face. “The bitch was enjoying herself!”
Realising that struggling and cursing wouldn’t get her anywhere, Megan decided to adopt a different approach which she hoped might persuade her Aunt to bring her punishment to a rapid conclusion. She stopped struggling and started to shed tears.
“I’m so sorry Aunty…” SMACK! SMACK! “ I didn’t mean to call you a sadistic bitch…..” SMACK! SMACK! “I was very naughty calling you that…” SMACK! SMACK! “I’m SO sorry I skipped the lesson to be with that boy…” SMACK! SMACK! “Please, PLEASE stop now, Aunty. You have punished me enough. I promise I’ll be as good as gold from now on…” SMACK! SMACK!

Kathryn had heard similar pleas before from numerous girls she had placed across her lap over the years. She wasn’t going to be fooled by crocodile tears and false promises. Besides which, she was rather enjoying herself. Megan had such a spankable bottom. It was beautifully round, plump and fleshy, more than capable of taking a prolonged spanking and much more. Although it was firm, it still wobbled and quivered in a most delightful fashion. She had no intention of stopping. Megan’s bottom had had years of neglect by her sister and it was up to her to make up for this! Megan wasn’t going to escape lightly. Oh no!
And so the spanking continued relentlessly.
SMACK! SMACK! “Ouchhh! yeeeowhh!”
SMACK! SMACK! “Arghhh! eeehhh!”
Kathryn finally stopped spanking her niece. Megan let out an audible “Phew!”, thinking “Thank God that’s over!” For good effect, she sniffed loudly and said, “Thank you for my spanking, Aunty (sniff, sob, sniff). I’m very sorry to have caused you so much trouble with my bad behaviour (sniff, sob, sniff)….Can I please get up now?”
“I’m glad you appreciate my efforts, Megan,” replied Kathryn, smiling to herself. “However, you may NOT get up now. That was only a warm up. I haven’t finished punishing you yet. There’s much more to come!”
“WHAT?” shrieked Megan, her eyes opening wide suddenly feeling very alarmed. “You can’t be serious. You’ve just spanked the living daylights out of me and you say there’s more to come? Surely you must be joking, Aunty!”
“I am certainly NOT joking, young lady. That was just a little hand spanking to prepare your bottom for much harsher treatment!”
“You call that just a ‘little hand spanking’? It really hurt…you nasty bitch! Let me get up this instant,” said Megan, rather inadvisably.
“Temper, temper! You’re in no position to adopt such a tone of voice with me, young lady. Clearly I haven’t yet got through to you. I think I’ll try something else,” Kathryn replied, picking up a black plimsoll she had conveniently placed in advance under her chair.
Megan caught sight of the plimsoll out of the corner of her eye and quickly changed her tune. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Aunty. I didn’t mean what I just said. Please, please don’t spank me with that! I can’t take any more.”
“Oh, I think you can and you will, my dear, so brace yourself….I think perhaps two dozen good whacks might do the trick, don’t you?”
“No, oh Aunty, No, no!” pleaded Megan to no avail, as the first of many hard whacks landed across her wriggling buttocks, which started to positively glow bright red. The room filled with the noise of rubber sole meeting soft flesh….WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Oh how Megan howled and cried out as her buttocks squirmed and wriggled fruitlessly in an effort to avoid the slipper. Kathryn was well practiced in walloping a moving target, each stroke landing exactly where she wanted it to land to impart its stinging lesson!
Finally, after delivering the two dozen hard whacks, Kathryn ordered Megan to stand. Megan quickly dismounted, tears rolling down her face as she hopped from one foot to another and gingerly tried to cup her hot ravaged cheeks with her hands.
“Stop jumping around, you silly girl,” Kathryn said. “Girls half your age take a walloping like that with much more dignity! Take your hands away from your bottom and stand facing the fireplace now!”
Megan either chose not to obey or was too distraught to take in the instructions as she continued to rub her bottom.
This time Megan rapidly responded and stood facing the fireplace with her hands in front of her, her bare bottom on full display, sobbing loudly. Kathryn sat down in her armchair and assessed the state of Megan’s bottom. “Mmmm! I’ve done a good job there. Beautifully red from top to bottom….no missed white patches anywhere! I can feel the heat radiating off her cheeks even from here. No need to light the fire!” Kathryn thought, chuckling to herself.
“Right, young lady. Now, you will remain like that for the next 30 minutes without touching your bottom. Compose yourself whilst I decide what to do with you next, and do try to stop that irritating snivelling and sobbing! You’re such a baby.”
Kathryn sat back in her armchair and admired her handiwork. Already she felt rather aroused by spanking her niece’s lovely bottom so severely, but resisted the temptation to touch herself, at least at this stage of the proceedings.
Megan stood facing the fireplace, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Her buttocks throbbed and stung dreadfully. How much more was she to suffer at the hands of her strict Aunty. When would Aunty be satisfied that she had been punished enough?

After 30 long minutes Kathryn decided that Megan had recovered sufficiently from her spanking and slippering to allow her to continue with the naughty girl’s punishment. She had decided that she would now tawse and cane Megan. The girl needed to experience the full range of sanctions she could apply both as a punishment for her recent wayward behaviour at school and as a warning of what would happen again if she continued to misbehave.
Kathryn had no qualms about the severity of the prolonged punishment she was giving Megan. So far Megan had escaped any real form of discipline throughout her childhood and this was reflected not only in the way she often treated her mother, but also in her constant flouting of rules at her school. It was time that this young lady was brought to heal!
Kathryn stood up and turned her armchair so that it faced out from the fireplace next to where Megan was standing. She then took hold of a heavy leather tawse with twin tails and instructed Megan to turn round.
“Right, young lady. It’s time for the rest of your punishment. Stand in front of the armchair, place your hands on the arms and stick your bottom out,” Kathryn instructed Megan, pointing to the chair with the tawse.

Megan looked nervously at the long leather strap. She’d never seen anything like it before, but she was sure that this was really going to hurt. She made one last attempt to plead for mercy from her Aunt.
“Please, Aunty. You’ve already punished me severely. I know I deserved every smack you gave me, but surely that is sufficient? I really promise to behave myself from now on.”
“No, Megan. I am firmly resolved to carry out the rest of your punishment. The spanking and slippering I have just given you were both relatively mild punishments. I need to drive the lesson home to guarantee that you don’t ever misbehave so badly ever again. I’d be failing in my duty as your Aunt and failing your mother if I don’t make this a very memorable experience for you! After today, you’ll think more than twice before stepping out of line. Now do as I ask unless of course you’d prefer me to call in two of my senior girls to assist me. They’d soon get you held down across my desk for the thrashing I intend to give you!”
By now, Megan was under no misapprehension that her Aunt was bluffing. She really couldn’t face the ignominy of being held down over her Aunty’s desk by two of her senior girls, let alone them being witness to her punishment. Resignedly, she walked round to the front of the chair and bent over, presenting her bare bottom for her Aunt to deal with.
“Well done, young lady. You’re beginning to learn obedience, even if it is the hard way,” commented Kathryn, as she watched her niece get into position. “I shall be lenient. I was going to give you a dozen strokes with my tawse, but I’ll limit myself to six. It will still hurt…a lot, but if you take the strokes without too much fuss, I’ll stop at six strokes. If not, then I might just give you the dozen I had originally intended. So beware!”
Placing her left hand on Megan’s back to steady herself, she raised the tawse high over her shoulder and then brought it down hard across the meaty centre of Megan’s trembling buttocks….THWACK!
Megan gave a loud yelp of pain and lifted her left leg in an attempt to help absorb the sting. A broad red stripe adorned Megan’s bottom running right across both cheeks.
“God! That’s awful! That really stings, far worse than Aunty’s slipper. How am I going to endure eleven more strokes with that horrible strap?” Megan thought as she started to whimper.

After a short pause to let the sting sink in, Kathryn raised the tawse again and delivered a second resounding THWACK, this time across Megan’s sit spot.
“YeeeOUCHHHH!” That stroke was a real stinger. Megan’s cheeks clenched and unclenched, trying to wring the burn out of her flesh.
“Relax your bottom, Megan. I know that sounds strange, but you’ll find it helps to cope with the pain!” Kathryn advised her niece. She waited, watching the second red band of scorched flesh blossom. Then raising the tawse high, Kathryn lashed it in low down where Megan’s buttocks met her thighs…THWACKKKK! Megan let out a loud howl of pain, furiously waggling her bottom in a vain attempt to dispel the burning sting and then started to sob loudly.

You’re doing well, Megan. You’re half-way through…three more to come,” Kathryn said, encouragingly.
Taking pity on her niece, Kathryn decided to deliver the last three strokes in quick succession. Whilst it would really hurt, at least the tawsing would be over before Megan had a chance to fully register the pain. The tawse cracked down in quick succession like rapid fire gunshots….

Megan reeled under the onslaught and leapt up screaming, clutching her bottom and rubbing it furiously…”OOOHHH!… OUCHHH! OOOHHH!…EEEEEE!” Kathryn was not very impressed with her niece’s antics, but she decided to ignore them. After all, it was Megan’s first taste of the tawse.
“Right, young lady. Back facing the fireplace and keep those hands away from your bottom.”
Megan limped back to the fireplace and did as instructed. Kathryn noted her shoulders shaking as she sobbed loudly, her buttocks involuntarily twitching.
Kathryn knelt down and gently inspected Megan’s now livid red buttocks. “Mmmh, I have done a good job. Such a lovely colour! Not too much damage, apart from a few darker red patches where the tails of the tawse had bitten into the flesh,” thought Kathryn.

“I think we’re almost there Megan. Now, stand there and await the final part of your punishment. You may drop your dress for now. I’ve saved the worst until last – 8 strokes of my cane. Providing that you accept the cane with good grace and don’t make too much fuss, your punishment will be over. I do, however, intend to make them very hard strokes, so that you will know what a proper caning feels like…not the gentle taps that your headmistress gave you earlier today!”

Megan stood facing the fireplace in a daze. Slowly she managed to stop crying and calm her breathing. Her bottom still felt very sore, but the burning sensations had started to transform into a rather stimulating warm glow that was seeping towards her loins. In fact, she suddenly realised, the sensations were distinctly arousing!
“How could that be?” she thought. Very slowly, so that her Aunty hopefully wouldn’t notice, she inched her hand down towards her pussy. It was distinctly moist! She inserted a finger and started to tickle her clitoris….”Mmmmm!” she thought. “This feels rather nice, much nicer than that grammar school boy’s attentions behind the sports hall!”
Megan’s pleasure was suddenly interrupted by Kathryn, ”I hope, young lady, you aren’t doing something I think you’re doing?!”
Megan blushed, quickly moving her hand away from her pussy, “No Aunty. I just had a rather tickly itch on my right thigh.”
“Oh really? Well, keep your hands where I can see them,” replied Kathryn knowing full well what her wayward niece had been up to. Deep down she was rather pleased that Megan had clearly found her spanking so far rather stimulating. She felt that it rather excused her own distinct sense of arousal generated by spanking her niece’s lovely bottom. She felt distinctly less guilty.
Meanwhile, Megan stood there now feeling rather frustrated that she couldn’t relieve that ‘itch’ between her legs. However, she suddenly remembered that her punishment was far from over. She still had a caning to come, which rather subdued the itch.
Megan’s level of anxiety started to rise to the point where she wanted her Aunty to just get on with it. Taking a deep breath, Megan turned her head towards her Aunt and said, “Please, Aunty, please would you cane me now. I can’t bear the suspense.”
For once, Kathryn was taken by surprise. Her niece was actually asking her to cane her. She was not trying to weedle her way out of her punishment! Clearly ‘little miss Megan’ was finally succumbing to the power of a good smacked bottom!
“Well, Megan, seeing as how you have asked me so nicely, I had better get on with it. Move away from the fireplace and bend over.”
Megan shuffled backwards and bent over with her hands on her knees. Kathryn flipped up her skirt over her lower back to reveal her bare bottom, her knickers still rolled down around her thighs. Kathryn noted that, although her buttocks were still quite red, the deep hue was beginning to lighten.
“Well, I’ll soon touch up her colour again with some lovely red stripes!” Kathryn thought to herself, a little shiver of excitement running through her body. She just loved thrashing a girl’s bottom with her cane. The cane was such an exquisite instrument of punishment in the right hands. It made such a thrilling sound as it swished through the air and wrapped itself around a pair of rounded cheeks. Equally thrilling was the loud thwack as it landed on soft flesh and made them quiver. She also loved the sight of the lovely red tramlines it painted and prided herself on creating neat parallel lines across the miscreants buttocks. She was going to enjoy this.

Taking up her cane, Kathryn whipped the first stroke in hard across the middle of Megan’s rump….SWISH! THWACK!

Megan gasped loudly…”Yeeeehhhh!” She had thought the tawse was bad enough, but the pain generated by the cane surpassed it by miles. Rather than being spread out over a wide band, all the punishing power was concentrated along a narrow line across her bare bottom. It was a real revelation after the gentle ‘caning’ she had received from her headmistress.
Kathryn swung the cane back and then brought it whistling down, lower than the first stroke to land under the overhang of Megan’s buttocks….SWISH! THWACKKKK! The stroke virtually lifted Megan off the ground as she just managed to prevent herself from falling forward. She howled out loudly…”YEEEOWHHH! FUCK!”

Watch your language, young lady. I won’t tolerate swearing. Do it again and I’ll increase your punishment to a dozen strokes,” said Kathryn.
“Sorry Aunty (sob, sob, sob), but it h..hurts so much! (sob, sob, sob)” whimpered Megan.
“Apologies accepted, young lady. Now stick that bottom out and tey to relax your buttocks. Six more strokes to come.”
And so Kathryn continued to lay on stripe after stripe, which had Megan’s bottom in a perpetual state of motion as she continued howl and sob loudly. She did not, however, swear again and held her position.

Finally the sixth stroke was delivered and Kathryn stood back to admire her handiwork. Megan remained bending over, sobbing loudly.

For someone who has never been properly caned before, you took that very well, Megan. I am proud of you. Now, I want you to stand up and place yourself back facing the fireplace with your hands on your head. We don’t want you rubbing your bottom just yet, let alone doing anything else with your hands!”
Megan slowly stood up and shuffled back to the fireplace, placing her hands reluctantly on her head. Oh how she wished she could relieve the sting in her cheeks, let alone the ‘itch’ between her legs which, despite the severity of the caning, felt very wet indeed!

Meanwhile, Kathryn sat down in her armchair facing Megan’s well-striped bottom, still holding the cane in her right hand. Her left hand started to stray between her legs, drawn there by an overwhelming urge to masturbate herself. Spanking and then caning Megan’s delightful young bottom had proved so utterly stimulating, she could no longer resist the temptation.
She started to rub herself, hoping that Megan’s sobbing would drown out any noises she might make. She swished her cane a few times, the sound adding to her enjoyment as she watched Megan’s buttocks flinch each time she whisked it noisily through the air….SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

Every now and again, Kathryn stopped rubbing herself and caressed the tip of her cane across Megan’s now well-welted cheeks. Megan jumped and emitted a little squeak each time, but otherwise remained still. Despite the throbbing sensations in her bottom, she slowly became aware of what her Aunty was up to! However, she didn’t dare to say anything. In fact she longed to be able to do exactly what her Aunt was doing! The thought of her Aunt being turned on by spanking and caning her bottom was in itself extremely arousing, let alone the heat that was now beginning to migrate from her bottom to her own pussy.

And so Kathryn continued to masturbate….sometimes using her cane instead of her hand to stimulate herself….

…her breathing became noisier and noisier, until she could no longer hold back and, arching her back, came loudly unable to stifle her cries of ecstasy.
Megan smiled to herself. Her Aunt was finally satisfied! She couldn’t bring herself to disapprove of her Aunty’s rather perverse behaviour, because, to her surprise, she had found the whole affair incredibly arousing. She couldn’t wait to be dismissed and go to her bedroom to find release for herself!


What a team we make, I take some photos to fit an idea in my head, pass the idea and photos to Robyn and …..ta daa! It gets done. She will do more for me, see here…

A welcome return for Mr.G.Reece! His latest offering is here…

Hi Asa
Sorry I haven’t been in touch lately but
the Summer has been a whirlwind of friends
visiting, weddings, parties etc.

Anyway, now the season is coming to a close
I thought it was time to get my lurid imagination
back into action (Not that it ever went away!!!)


So as usual, one of the Pics on your blog sparked
my imagination. Actually the pic in question was
sent by one of your Girls so I hope it is alright
to use it. As you know I would hate to offend
anyone. I want to make Cocks hard and
Pussies wet … not upset anyone.
So maybe you need to ask for consent
or ask me to crop the photo so only those that
consent are visible.

Well, here goes anyway.
The story is called…
A chance encounter.

I have often wondered how I would feel if I
met a Mistress in a normal day to day setting
that I had previously visited for a severe Thrashing.
For example, a chance
encounter in a bar, restaurant etc.
Would I feel embarrassed?
Would I endeavour to make contact, as
long as I was sure my approach was welcome?
Who knows but in my story this is what my imagination
conjured up…..

I have just finished work and I have nipped into
a local Wine Bar to have a drink to wind down from
the day’s stresses. I order a glass of wine and sit at
the bar. I look around at the other people drinking and
suddenly I can’t believe my eyes. There at a table
with a group of friends is Miss Kenworthy whom I had
the pleasure and privilege of visiting a couple of
years ago. My buttocks clench together involuntarily
as I remember the pain that I felt across them the last time
I was in the company of this stunning and sexy Lady.
As my mind spins, I see her catch my eye and it is
obvious that she seems to recognises who I am.
She looks away and I see her chatting to her friends.
After a few minutes she catches my eye again and to
my surprise she raises her hand and beckons me across.
I look behind me to make sure it is really me that she is
signalling to and then pick up my wine and walk over
to her table………
I stand next to the table and politely ask if she
remembers me……

I endeavour to make polite conversation but the truth
is that I am rather overawed to be in the company of such
alluring Ladies. (Two at least, who I know love nothing
better than making a ‘Boy’s Bottom pay for his misdeeds!!)
My slight awkwardness makes me keep my gaze lowered
but unfortunately Miss Kenworthy misinterprets this!!

I am mortified that she thinks I am leering at her
cleavage and stammer to explain the reason for my
lowered gaze. Unfortunately my explanation is
not at all convincing and Miss Kenworthy makes
this obvious as she speaks to me….

“It seems you haven’t changed your ways since we last
met, Mr Reece. I am sure you remember what happened to
you when I caught you looking up my skirt a couple of
years ago. Perhaps you need some more discipline!!”

I feel myself start to tremble as my mind conjures up
an image of what she did to my poor Bottom, during
our last encounter……

Miss Kenworthy senses my nervousness and I have
the distinct impression that I am being lured
into a ‘trap’ as she speaks to me again…

“I hope you are not mentally undressing me Mr Reece.
That would be VERY bad for your Bottom. We are
not very far from Asa’s studio and I do have a key!!!
Tell me that you are not having lewd thoughts, Mr Reece
and you don’t deserve to receive a severe thrashing!!!

I have never been very good at lying and the fact of the
matter is that I am indeed having very naughty thoughts
as I sit next to this sexy Lady. She has planted seeds in
my mind about mentally undressing her and I try desperately
not to think of her without her clothes and to convince her
that this is the farthest thing from my mind. My silence, as far
as she is concerned, proves my guilt.
Of course, she is right because I know exactly what I
am thinking, at that precise moment………

I try my hardest to block out my lewd thoughts and
I endeavour to engage in some mundane conversation
with the Ladies sitting around the table.
However, they are not listening…..

“Come on Girls… drink up we are off to Asa’s studio
for some fun and games. We can buy some more
wine on the way…..
You too Mr Reece, drink up. You are going to be our
star attraction for this evening!!!……….”

20 minutes later…..

After a quick stop at the local Vintners to buy wine,
I watch as Miss Kenworthy unlocks the door to
Asa’s studio and the four Ladies usher me inside
the lobby. It is a place I have visited on numerous
occasions and once again my buttocks clench
together knowing that when I am finally able to
leave later on that evening, those same buttocks
will be in a VERY different state!!

Miss Kenworthy locks the door behind us and
speaks to me again….

“OK Mr Reece… take off everything apart from your
underpants and walk up the stairs in front of us.”
As I do as I am told and mount the first step, I can hear
the Ladies behind me shrieking with glee and one
even wolf whistles as I feel a hefty slap to my

“Giddy up Mister… up those stairs NOW!!”

….then another voice….

“No, I’ve got a better idea make him take off
his pants and then make him crawl up the

It was going to be a LONG night!!!!

The End

Hope you like this Sir!

Asa’s Note….of course I did my dear naughty boy.

Jean Marie’s Erotic Words – 1

To read the rest, click here…

1st S-E submission

​Mr. Jones is holding a writing contest on his marvelous blog. For an inspirational theme, he posted an evocative photo of one of his lovely models, Cherry. This voluptuous girl was standing on a stool, dressed as a schoolgirl, as though she’d just been spanked. I should probably say that Cherry was “undressed” as a schoolgirl because her magnificent bared bottom was on full display. I took one look at this breath-taking photo and the sap within me began to flow. My sap is both my creative juices and my sexual arousal. My mind was highly inspired and my sex was soaking wet. The words just flowed out of me. I submitted this brief story to Mr. Jones for consideration, and he surprised me by publishing it right away on his blog. (I’m still unsure whether I won this contest yet…) The fictious internal character stories I’d created to match the beautiful exteriors of the bevy of gorgeous models stayed with me, and I wrote a longer piece, which I submitted to Mr. Jones just to entertain him. He surprised me by publishing that continuation, too, then saying that he’d created a “guest space” on his blog for me to submit written work on an on-going basis. I felt, honored, technologically challenged, and a bit overwhelmed. So, being the organized school teacher I am to my core, I 1) thanked him, 2) worked out the tech questions, and 3) sat down to think about what to write on this large, world stage.
​And all my sap froze. I mean, I DRIED-UP like a brown, crinkled leaf in autumn. Just a day before I was full of ideas for sexy short stories and for flirtatious emails to send to Mr. Jones. But now, nothing. So, by way of introduction in this first piece, I thought I’d tell you my writing process and a little bit about me.
​I always write in the nude, without a stitch of clothing on my thirty-two year old body. I’m a very sexual person and I want to be in-touch with that. I’m a serial monogamist. I was most recently in a long relationship with a handsome, fascinating to the point of brilliant, wealthy, older gentleman. He treated me very well for several years until he suddenly didn’t, proved to be a poopy-head who wanted to date other, younger women. I’m working through that baggage, but it has relevance because I used to get spanked frequently by him, share incredible sex, and write using those elements for inspiration and motivation. Now I do a LOT of self-spanking and masturbation. (This corona virus crisis has hit my love-life hard!)
​So faced with this writer’s block, I got out one of my favorite implements of ass destruction, an oversized Tupperware spatula. I gave my bared callipygous bottom a very hard paddling in front of the bathroom mirror. (I like to see the fanny (what Americans call the butt) flesh jump and contort, I like to watch it turn from pale to pink to rosy red to tomato red to Bing-cherry deep-red to dusky rose to magenta. I like to feel the cool mounds warm, then heat up, and take fire.) Normally, this (or my lover’s hard hand) would get me pumped-up, but it didn’t this time. So I went to my bedroom and laid down and rubbed rose-scented lotion into my skin, especially the abused portion, my backside, and then masturbated. Now, if you’re like me, spanking and sex go hand-in-hand. Like a horse and carriage (in a song’s lyrics) I can’t have one without the other. I confess that I had several really pleasant orgasms, but I still did not come up with any story ideas!
​I tried not to freak out. I let my cum-drunk brain ponder the stable of lovelies that regularly model for Mr. Jones. I’ll confess that I’ve always been bi-curious, and have started to act upon these tendencies recently.
​I thought about the exquisite Charlotte. Pretty face and a beguiling smile, fair complexion, blond hair, pert small breasts that are a lot like mine, a cute, trim bottom; she’s sexuality incarnate. She has a tattoo above her ass crack of a bow, which always makes me think that she’s a gift-wrapped package that I’d love to open slowly and cherish its contents. That shit-head of a man I mentioned from my past was openly infatuated with Charlotte when he introduced me to the Spanking Emporium blog.
​Then there’s her near-twin, Samantha, with a slightly cooler look about her, with a golden tan to compliment her blond hair, larger, wide-set breasts, a calligraphy design for a tramp-stamp above her similarly trim butt cheeks.
​The afore-mentioned Cherry is young, round, as previously said, she’s voluptuous, with large, full, high-set breasts, a trim waist that blossoms out to womanly hips. I could stare at her perfect ass for hours, though I’d prefer to touch. She’s tanned as only a brown haired, brown eyed girl can get tan. Like all of her cohorts, Cherry is very pretty, her beauty is augmented with a cleft chin and a cupid’s bow mouth.
​And finally (among the regulars) is Kate, a red-haired beauty with attendant fair skin, very large, pendulous breasts that make one’s mouth water, a full, large pair of buttocks that make my pussy wet, and a knowing smile that makes me suspect that she knows full well how her looks drive people mad with lust. She has another feature that must receive comment. She poses for pictures without modesty. Kate seems to happily show off her pussy and rosebud as she bends over for punishment in the photos.
​These women danced around in my mind as my fingers danced around my clitoris. I share an anal-eroticism with Kate, so I parted my bottom, rubbed some lotion up there, and played inside my bum-hole, as I like to do whenever sexually excited. Still, no scenarios came to me, as orgasm after orgasm washed over me.
​My thoughts switched to the man who instigated all this. I don’t know Mr. Jones well (yet), but know that I look forward to our journey together, whether long-distance or in-person. In a way, he reminds me of Hugh Hefner of Playboy fame, but Mr. Jones’ harem-ladies are not just nudists, they’re all spankos, which excites me in a way that the air-brushed, pedestal-positioned bunnies and centerfolds never did. He is an incredible photographer, a talented word-smith, a caring individual, and that rarest of creatures, a genuinely nice man. In our email correspondences, we’ve developed a strong friendship, as we’ve shared details about our backgrounds that make us who we are. In what I compose for the Guest Space on his site, I plan to touch on some of the things I’ve mentioned here in this introduction, as well as explore new territory. I’m worried about how much time these expressions may take as a busy school teacher. I’m worried about what to say, though I now have the kernel of an idea for next time. So, this piece has served its purpose for me. I hope you’ve found it entertaining enough to want to read more. Until then, Warmly, Jean Marie

Kate’s Story – Part Nine

To read the rest, click here…


She did as I requested and tried to pull her knickers up.

“It’s no good trying to pull your school knickers up now young lady is it? They will be coming straight down for your punishment! I know I have just made you remove it from your person, but now…pick it up again and stand there!” I said pointing to a place on the carpet.

You see, an idea had shot into my mind, and rather a good one it was too.

She picked up the bell and moved into the spot I had indicated.

“Right then young lady! I am giving you twelve on each cheek with the plimsoll. Hold the bell straight out in front of you. Every time it rings, I shall start your punishment again!”

‘Awwwwww, yes Mr Jones.”

She held the bell out before her as I walked to the punishment cupboard for my size fifteen plimsol, a huge beast of a thing, with the thickest, hardest rubber sole one could buy.

“That”s not good enough! Bend your knees more, push your bottom well out for your spanking, you naughty girl!”


“Owwwwww, owwwwww, owwwwwooooh”

“i shall start again!”

“Ohhhhh Mr Jones, please Sir, don’t start again! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!”



“We start again!”

Eventually she manages to stay still, receiving double the original number of whacks I had intended to award her – twenty-four ‘thwacks’ to be precise!

Despite the fact that I knew her arms must be killing her, I made her stay in this position holding the bell for a full five minutes.

Then the next class came in, giggling at her predicament.

“Right, lower your arms, keep you skirt up and knickers down. You can walk to the secretary’s office, tell her what you have done and ask her for a detailed letter of your crime and punishment to take home to your parents. Make sure you bring it back duly signed tomorrow!!!!”

‘Sniff….sniff….yes, Mr Jones.’

As she left, the Christmas carol ‘Ding, dong merrily on high’ came into my mind!


Jean Marie’s Story Page

To see the rest of my guest spanking authors and photographers etc, click here…

Jean Marie is my American friend, joined together by the love of spanking and the written word. How lovely that all the water and land between us, can evaporate, courtesy of the Internet.

Her first story was for a competition…

Her second was a continuation…(what happened next)

No – 3







I have also set her a task. I have asked her to take over this story of mine, using any of my photos she likes…

But if she does not choose to, it matters not. That is how it is for the chosen ones, the people who make it to ‘My Contributors’ page. Freedom! And no pressure….let them fly!

Let’s see how she does, watch this space.

To see other collaborators, just look up to the menu above, and click on the button.


Jean Marie’s Third Piece of Spanking Writing…

My Fantasy Trip to the Emporium
By Jean Marie

To read the rest, click here…

​Mr. Jones and I have been corresponding. He has been entirely circumspect and proper, a complete gentleman. I’ve fluctuated, however, trying to be lady-like, but sometimes, after a long day of teaching, then grading student papers, when it’s finally “me” time in the wee hours, and I’ve had a glass of wine to take the edge off, I may have said some provocative things. In my defense, he led me on with his mind-blowing (for me) and simply-stated (for him) suggestions…
For example, he invited me to visit across the pond in England. He matter-of-factly said that he could do a photo shoot with his models and me (after I’d mentioned that I used to be a professional model long ago). He stated the fact that if we were photographed in the nude, he wouldn’t have to show my face in the shots, if I preferred anonymity. He also stated that my spanking of a model or two could be accomplished by the mere request to do the deed.
Normally, I have a strict internal gyroscope that keeps my life spinning smoothly, in balance, and on-track. But his suggestions sent my mind reeling off its axis. I became inebriated by the intoxicating ideas he was casually offering. I started to fantasize about taking the trip to central England, doing some of the things he suggested, then elaborating on this riff.
I flew from America not to London. The capital and its tourist attractions would have to wait until the end of my visit. I had more important priorities. I flew first to Liverpool, to see all the haunts of the Beatles. Even though I’m in my early thirties and missed living through their heyday, I LOVE the fab four! Then, to fit into the Victorian mindset of my next destination, I would dress in period costume and take the train. I’d wear a dress that flowed to my ankles, with old fashioned bloomers underneath, the kind of knickers that went from my waist to my knees with lace trimming the white cotton, thin fabric, and a seam that opened in the back, parallel to my ass crack to my crotch, so that I could more easily sit on the loo. Or so that an authority-figure could have access to my naughty girl bits, to finger my pussy or bare me for a session of corporal punishment. I’d wear a whale-bone corset, not laced too tight, but that nipped my waist, making my full, womanly hips and bum blossom out underneath, and make my cupcake titties overflow the garment, so that I felt well-endowed for the first time in my life. To top it off, I’d wear a magnificent chapeau, a wide-brimmed hat. I felt like the Kate Winslet character, when she got out of her limousine to board the Titanic, if you saw that movie. My train route would take me east to Manchester, then south and east to a place called Derbyshire, where Mr. Jones’ emporium was located.
He calls it an emporium. The dictionary defines this old world term as a place where a wide variety of merchandise is available. It is truth in advertising. The emporium has a large bevy of female beauties, each seemingly sexier than the last, each unique in her own way. I expected to be met at the train station by Mr. Jones. (I refuse to call him by his given name of Asa. I feel toward him as I would a Top, a man in control of me and my every situation, a man fixated on corporal matters, especially the disciplining of all his models, myself humbly among their number for this enchanted weekend.) But a distinguished man of seventy years is nowhere in evidence. I recognize the gorgeous model, Charlotte, who waves at me as if we were long-lost friends. She too is wearing a wide-brimmed hat and period dress. I feel immediately at home in her company, particularly because of her warm smile, easy manner, and sharp sense of humor. She has been enlisted to transport me to Mr. Jones’ studio. We hop into a vintage MG roadster and are off. We take our hats off just before they blow away in the open convertible.
I find myself staring at the natural beauty of the blond driving the sportscar too fast. I can’t help myself, my thoughts pour out unfiltered.
“I hope you know that you are absolutely beautiful, not austere and perfect, but accessibly gorgeous, a lived-in, comfortable beauty, facially and in every way,” I gush, the words tumbling out of my soul.
Charlotte smiles casually at me, “Well, thanks…”
“I mean it! I had a boyfriend, we broke up about a year ago, anyway, he was infatuated with you. Keith was the one who showed me your photos on Mr. Jones blog.”
“Let me guess, he wasn’t attracted to my ‘lived-in beauty’ facially, he wanted ‘access’ to my bared bum,” and she laughed in a way that reminded me of music.
I guffaw at how she saw right to the heart of the matter, and to Keith’s superficiality, and the ice is broken between us.
“I could say the same to you, Jeanie,” she smiles. “Asa said you did some professional modeling.”
“Long ago, yes, but strictly print-work and runway stuff. I’m envious of your honesty to do nude work, especially spanking scenarios…” I realize that I’m as attracted to Charlotte as Keith was, I try to justify it in my mind because we’re sharing like tastes, that it isn’t just physical. But I’m aroused, my bloomers are wet.
“To thine own self be true,” Charlotte smiles in reply. “All the models that work for Asa have a taste for corporal discipline, to one degree or another, some of us more so than others.”
“It must be thrilling to do shoot after shoot with your backside bared, positioned provocatively, buttocks redden by a paddle or cane or…” I squirm on the leather car seat, my excitement uncontainable.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Sometimes, especially if I have another, straight photo shoot the next day, we’ll use rouge on our bottoms to simulate the cane stripes.”
“But that’s dishonest!” I respond, surprised to hear this background dirt.
“You’re right. Maybe you should spank me for it! But we have to, you see, we cannot keep waiting for bottoms to cool, and then spank again, a story would take all day! We do lots of them real, it depends on the shoot.” Charlotte breathed, her eyes on mine. “Asa’s setting up the studio and the camera angles. We can do one in a schoolroom, or a bedroom, or a dungeon, or out in nature, or all of the above. But, whatever you decide, I hope we get the chance to shoot together. I think it’d be hot,” and we have arrived, so she puts the car in park, and leans over to softly kiss me on my lips. We put our hats back on, I grab my suitcase, and we get out of the small car on wobbly legs with wet crotches.
Charlotte introduces me to the assembled models. In my mind, I’m thinking about all my background knowledge to put together with each of the beautiful women before me in-the-flesh. All of them got the memo, and are dressed in Victorian period garb. They look like ice cream cones, mouthwateringly sweet and so lick-able. Big hats and boobies pushed up above the cleavage of each tight-fitting, pastel-colored gown.
“This is Samantha,” Charlotte says, and I recognize the other blond used in Mr. Jones’ stable of regular models often, but this one is cool, somewhat icy in her patrician stare, with just as hot a slender body as Charlotte’s undulating beneath her gown. Whether in actuality or just in the photographed scenarios, Sam is often a switch, both taking a caning and administering one. Therefore, I’m a little afraid of her.
“This is Kate,” Charlotte says, and a stunning, natural redhead smiles demurely at me. Her long hair is piled haphazardly on her head, giving her an air of casual ease that I warm to immediately. She has the most zaftig of figures of any of the models, with full, large breasts matched by a round, bouncy bottom. She is in the habit of posing across the spanking bench most openly, meaning high up, unafraid of exposing her nether regions. I have seen photos of lovely Kate that reveal her tight, brown arsehole, photos that impressed me so much, they took my breath away. I feel that I know her intimately in my lascivious mind, want to know her in fact in the Biblical sense of the word.
“And this is Cherry,” Charlotte says. Cherry seems younger than any of the models. She has an attitude that seems to say that she knows she’s fresh and firm and completely unspoiled. She has a pretty face with a cleft chin and startlingly hypnotic eyes, and long, straight auburn brown hair. She has a similarly cherubic set of buttocks, high and tight, but round and well-upholstered. My teeth ache when I look upon her beguiling beauty; I want to spank her for everything she embodies.
“I’m pleased to meet each and every one of you,” I say in complete honesty. “You are each overwhelmingly lovely, sexy, enchanting!”
Cutting right to the chase with the impetuosity of youth, Cherry asks, “Have you thought about which models you want to participate and what scenarios you’d like to depict in this shoot?”
“How rude!” Samantha admonishes the pretty girl. “Let’s sit inside, have tea, let Jeanie catch her breath, and then talk specifics,” and she escorts us into the large, homey cottage. We sit on overstuffed, comfy furniture with pretty, floral prints that don’t match, but rather complement one another. The chairs and sofas are arranged in a circle, so we can look one another in the eye to talk freely. Tea is served on impeccable porcelain.
As I lift my teacup, I’m reminded of Charlotte’s derriere, so fair and well-made. The only difference is that the tea service seems delicate, and easily shattered whereas sweet Charlotte’s bum seems substantial and unbreakable. I’d like to spend a whole night long trying to wear her out. My mind takes flight with this fantasy, when I refocus on reality, Charlotte is smiling demurely at me, and I blush at the juxtaposition of the two.
“Would you like a biscuit?” Kate offers. I don’t see any biscuits on the tray, but a selection of other delicacies. The scone reminds me of Samantha, with a hardness about her, the shortbread as substantial and satisfying as Kate, the jelly-filled cookie as saccharine as Cherry, and the fruitcake as varied and nutritious as Charlotte. I took the latter.
We make small talk, mostly centering around me, my career as a teacher, my love-life, my interest in spanking. I don’t like talking about myself, so was uncomfortable. But my clothing made me more so. I’d already taken off my hat when we came indoors. But, having worn the corset for hours, it was proving too much.
“I’m sorry, this is unbearable!” I blurted out, and all around me, pretty faces looked horror-struck that I was displeased. “It’s just this corset, is anyone else wearing one? Mine isn’t even laced-up tight, but I can’t stand it any longer.” If I’d been wearing a blouse, I would have had access, but instead, I stood and pulled my gown over my head and off, then unclipped the front of the corset and removed it, too. This meant I was reduced to wearing only those bloomers. Finally I could breath, but I blushed because I was now exposed, nearly nude.
Seeing this, understanding Kate stood up and said, “Ladies, our guest shouldn’t be made to feel conspicuous,” and she joined me in pulling her gown off and removing her corset. Her breasts were heavy and drooped a bit, they were the breasts of a motherly-type, an earth-mother, a flower-child decades too late. I wanted to nuzzle my face into them, kiss their bounty, suckle their warmth. Instead, I simply sit on my chair and feel the moisture seep into my cotton knickers.
Cherry decides to join us in solidarity, and in a trice is just as nearly-nude. Her tits, by contrast, are firm and pert and barely bouncing, topped with pink, perfect nipples.
Like blond twins, Charlotte and Samantha then stood and disrobed. The only difference between them was their facial features and the set of their boobies, with Sam’s widely perched on her chest.
I smile in incredulity at the unlikely portrait of all these beauties sitting in just their old fashioned undies. I put my hat back on my head, which seemed all the sexier, and everyone followed suit. And we all started to giggle, all tension now gone, boobs bobbling and bouncing with our laughter.
Now it seemed appropriate, so I said, “To answer your question, Cherry, I think I’d like to utilize all your talents. I’d like to shoot a scene in the schoolroom where Sam is spanking Kate, and I’m tasked with punishing Charlotte. Then, I’d like for both Charlotte and I to punish Cherry with a dual caning in-class over a desk. After that, I think I’d like to film Charlotte and me outside in the sunshine playing together.” Looks are exchanged all around, everyone seems excited and happy with this plan, all except Cherry.
“Why must I get caned, by two people at once?!” she asks.
“Because your arse is so ripe,” I answer, “and because your attitude on display right now cries out for it.”
All the other girls burst out in spontaneous applause, and Cherry sits in rebuffed silence.
I add, “And no rogue is to be used at all. Every red bottom will have to be earned.” Knowing looks are exchanged, and Cherry is sitting even more uncomfortably. She won’t be sitting at all soon.
We adjourn to the schoolroom set, where I meet Mr. Jones for the first time. He is distinguished as anticipated, white-haired, craggily handsome, powerfully built. I’m secretly glad that he won’t be spanking me because I’m in the mood for something playful, not harsh. We exchange our wide-brimmed hats for straw boaters suitable for schoolgirls, and we’re ready to shoot. Because it’s a still shoot and not video, I can sit out of the shot and watch as Samantha spanks Kate. True to form, Kate leans over a desk deeply; we can all see all of Kate’s considerable charms. Samantha spanks her thoroughly. Kate squirms and squeals as her buttocks are belabored, and suddenly I’m sitting in a puddle of my arousal.
I lean over to Charlotte and whisper, “How do you stand it? I’m about to jump out of my skin I’m so turned-on!”
Charlotte takes me by the hand and leads me away from the set, back into the cottage. “In all the modeling shoots you did, you never did porn, did you, Jeanie?” I shake my head. “On a porn set,” she continues, “there’s a ‘fluff girl’, whose job it is to keep the male actors aroused, and keep the females able to contain their excitement…” Charlotte pushes me back onto the sofa and applies her pretty mouth to my aroused pussy. She’s my fluff girl, and a skilled one. I climax hard in a series of wracking orgasms. Just as suddenly as she started, Charlotte wipes her glazed mouth with the back of her hand, and takes me by the hand back to the set, her job done.
Sitting back down on the director’s folding chair I’d just occupied, I beat myself up mentally for not seizing the opportunity to kiss my juices off her face, or at least to say ‘thank you’.
“Great!” Mr. Jones exclaims. “Thank you, ladies! Are you ready Jeanie and Charlotte?”
We both nod and get up, take our positions on the realistic schoolroom set. I decide not to pull Charlotte’s white bloomers down. I want to break into this by small steps. I just open the back of the garment as Charlotte bends over a desk. Her perfect, pale posterior peaks out at me. I start to spank her. I’m so glad that she ate me out and let the pressure off or I would’ve exploded. It was SO sexy spanking this beautiful woman, feeling her buttocks warm beneath my punishing palm, seeing her cheeks turn to pink, to rosy red, to tomato, then to magenta. I didn’t let her off easily, I spanked Charlotte for all she was worth.
“Great job, Jeanie! You, too, Char!” Mr. Jones yells enthusiastically. Charlotte pops up off the desk and into my arms, we hug and kiss, and as our hungry mouths part, she whispers, “Return the favor? I need a fluff girl!”
I fairly run with Charlotte back to our perch on the sofa in the cottage. I apply my tongue to her humid and headily fragrant pussy, and Charlotte clamps her thighs around my head and doesn’t let me go. It is some of the most meaningful and satisfying sex I’ve ever shared, with man or woman, stranger or lover of long-standing.
Charlotte gets off her back smiling broadly. “Let’s go cane the snot out of that deserving Cherry!” she exclaims.
By the condition of her rock hard raisins for nipples, Cherry is excited about what’s to come, but she’s also apprehensive. The pretty girl is pacing like a nervous leopard. Charlotte takes command.
“Kneel on the desk, stick your ass up high in the air,” she instructs, handing me a thin rattan cane as she grips her own.
“Can I keep these on?” Cherry pleads as she holds the waistband of her bloomers.
“No,” Charlotte says definitively, and yanks them down. Her ample bottom jiggles as it’s bared.
I just smile, I couldn’t have given directions any better. Clearly Charlotte has an ax to grind against the sharpening stone of Cherry’s callipygous bottom.
“Whenever you’re ready, ladies,” Mr. Jones calls out.
Regardless of whether Cherry was ready, Charlotte and I alternate giving the round target stripes with our canes. The bum bounces provocatively as each lick lands, her toned musculature flexes, the flesh relaxes as the girl absorbs the sting, and the cycle is repeated. The lovely song of “swish, thwack, yeow” is sung for twenty refrains. Then silence except for sniffling and soft sobs as the lovely lass dismounts and rubs her flaming backside. I envelop the girl in my arms and kiss her tear-steaked face.
“You took that very well! It made for a sizzling hot shoot!” I praise.
“You needed that, and deserved everything you got,” Charlotte added. I shot Charlotte a reproachful look, then blocked with my hand the spank that Charlotte tried to land on Cherry’s welted cheeks. “Well, it’s true!” she said in her defense.
“The other girls all hate me!” she sobbed in my arms.
“Part of it is just because you’re young and vivacious,” I consoled. “Part of it is because you can be a brat, so work on that…” and I gave her bottom a sharp spank for emphasis.
I disengaged from Cherry’s embrace and filled my arms with Charlotte. We strolled out to the meadow, with Mr. Jones clicking off photos of our bloomers-half-covered-backsides as we went. We laid down among the wild flowers. He kissed for a long moment, then I smooched my way down her lithe form, from her collarbone to her nipples to her innie belly button, and into her muff via the slit in her drawers. Then I turned her over and pulled her knickers down and off. I was confronted with a delicate tattoo of a bow just above her ass crack. It looked to me as though her perfect body had been giftwrapped just for me and tied up with a ribbon. I kissed the blue tattoo then trailed my tongue down into her crevice. I parted her buttocks with both hands and pushed my tongue into the orifice I found there.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Charlotte sighed as an orgasm approached.
I removed my tongue from her tooter long enough to joke, “No, I’m just a girl, but I know it feels heavenly, so I understand your confusion,” then licked her there all the harder.
A climax rocked her world. Charlotte flexed her cheeks and nearly broke my nose. When she was through, she pushed me down into the garden and reciprocated the tongue bath. All the while, Mr. Jones shutter clicked in rapid-fire succession.
All too soon, my time was up, our photo session was over. I got dressed while every other female just stood there naked and watched. I kissed each of them goodbye, finishing the circle with Charlotte.
“I’ll remember you forever,” I confided with all sincerity.
“And if you don’t, you’ll have some sexy photos to remind you,” she said to brighten the mood.
Mr. Jones drove me to the train station. I thanked him profusely, then boarded the train to London.
He said through the open window, “You can trust me, no one will see your photos except you and me.”
“No, publish them on your blog. Just don’t publish my name for some anonymity. I want the world to see the beauty of your work and of all your models.”
A radiant smile broke out across his handsome face. “And you! Did anyone ever tell you that you have a spectacular ass?” Passersby looked over at us.
“Yes, about ten years ago. It’s nice to hear that again!”
The train started to move. Mr. Jones walked along side. “Retire from teaching and come work with us,” he offered. “It’ll keep Charlotte young, and keep Cherry in her place…”
I just laughed, closed the window as the train picked up speed, and was alone with my thoughts.

Week One – Tuesday

This is a part of this story…

I suggest you read that first, and then come back…


Tuesday dawned brightly, a healthy breakfast and a cheerful drive to work was a lovely start to the day. However…Stephanie happened!

It is after school, the three friends have yet again ended up in the detention room, and this time their essay concerns ‘the slave trade, its abolishment, and how it’s memory affects the lives we lead today.’

Half an hour has passed, Samantha has done a whole page, Charlotte has done a whole paragraph, and Stephanie has drawn a huge penis with sperm shooting out, with a hand flying up and down it. An arrow points to the hand…..and written by it is ‘what that old fart is thinking of whilst we do this!’

Sha has just held it up behind her back, Samantha and Charlotte laughed loudly, Mrs Pollard has confiscated it.

“How dare you Stephanie? How very dare you!?!? Get out here, now!”

“Get yourself over the stool young lady!” Shouts Mrs.Pollard.

Stephanie smiles and winks at her friends, and then complies.

Six hard fast blows from the heavy rubber soled plimsol soon land on the seat of her skirt, which is even sooner raised by Mrs.Pollard.

And knickers lowered in temper, with little finesse!

To reveal her beautiful curvy bottom, wriggling and already a bright red!

Then she got what can only be described in the typically English old fashioned way…’A jolly good bare bottom spanking!!’

“Now let that be a lesson to you Stephanie, and and example to you two! Get back to your seat, you naughty girl…and WORK!”

I wonder what Wednesday will bring…..Samantha?

See you soon


Two Girls at ‘The Inveigle’

To read the rest of this ever expanding story, click here…

Two young ladies at the Inveigle

Note….this photograph is not mine.
Is it real vintage? I am not sure. Is it yours? If so, take it as the best compliment I can give, that it is here. Of course, I will credit you…
(for the rest of the set to go with it though!…..::chuckle::)

Let us retreat from the hustle and bustle of the Inveigle’s auditorium as the audience departs after one of the Saturday night shows and head for the Inveigle’s bar. The two young ladies we met earlier at the start of the Inveigle story are sitting in a quiet corner, animatedly talking to each other and sipping large glasses of Madeira. However, before we eavesdrop on their conversation, let’s learn a little more about this pretty pair.

They are called Emma and Melanie. They rarely miss a Saturday night show at the Inveigle and can usually be seen sitting in the front row close to the front of the stage, determined to see things up close. Both ladies are very attractive. Emma is 23 years of age, with blonde hair, matched by a fresh creamy complexion. In contrast, Melanie has light brown hair. She is slightly older than Emma at 25 years of age. They are ‘closet lesbians’ with a shared love of spanking.

Both had left home as soon as they could at age of 21 wanting to be free from parental constraints. They met each other at work, both working as secretaries for a large bank based in the City. To save on renting costs, they had agreed to share a small apartment. Forced to share the only bed in their one-bedroom apartment, they soon developed a mutual attraction for each other and became lovers.

Of the two, Melanie possessed the more dominant personality and frequently chided her younger companion over her perceived failings. Emma, however, didn’t seem to mind about her bossy partner. In fact, she secretly rather liked being controlled by this slightly older woman, abdicating most of the responsibility for her life to Melanie. She felt cared for and loved. That’s what mattered.

The two ladies were happy in their life together, but the weekly grind of working long hours, five days a week often left them feeling in need of some excitement that could occasionally take them away from their humdrum existence. There was very little for two young, unaccompanied ladies to do for entertainment at this time in history. However, all was about to change.

One Saturday afternoon, Melanie had been down to the local corner shop for some food and had been handed a flier by a strangely dressed young girl in a very short dress which showed off her long frilly drawers and black and white striped stockings. As Melanie entered the apartment, Emma saw that she was holding a colourful-looking flier.

“What’s that Melanie? Anything of interest?” Emma enquired.

“Well, Emma, it might be! Have a look, it looks and sounds deliciously naughty!” Melanie said, in an excited voice.

She handed the flier to Emma…

“Gosh!” exclaimed Emma, staring at the image of three naked female bottoms bending over with their split drawers in varying states of opening. “I’ve never heard of the Inveigle Theatre. What do you think it’s all about?”
“Oh, I’m only guessing, but that little statement in the bottom left-hand corner of the flier might provide a clue!”

Emma read out the statement, looking rather puzzled, “‘Watch our bottoms glow red … we dare to bare!’ ….What’s that meant to mean?!… Oh, and it says, ‘ladies only’! I don’t understand.”

Melanie, the more Worldly-wise of the pair, chuckled, “Well, my love, I think I can have a good guess. The Inveigle is a one of those theatres that caters for rather ‘specialised tastes’.”

Emma still looked puzzled. “What ‘specialised tastes’? I still don’t understand.”

Melanie looked directly into Emma’s eyes and then said one word, “Spanking!”

There was a shocked silence, before Emma blushed bright red and spluttered,“Spanking? Really?! You mean they put on shows showing ladies spanking each other in front of an audience and, from the look of it, they are spanked on their b…bare bottoms?!”

“Don’t look so horrified and such a prude, Emma,” replied Melanie. “It sounds rather fun and exciting! I hear that female spanking shows have become all the rage amongst the likes of us! Let’s give it a try! We never go to anything exciting together. It’ll do us good to get out and do something different for a change on a Saturday night. It’ll be better than sitting here in front of the fire dosing or darning our stockings! Besides which the show is only 6 pence and it’s for ladies only. We’ll be perfectly safe!”

Emma sighed and replied, “All right, Melanie. I suppose we could give it a try. We have nothing to lose. If it’s not any good, we could always just get up and leave. When does it start?”

“Brilliant!“ replied Melanie, with a big smile. ‘It starts at 8.00, so we’d better have something to eat and then get changed into our finery!’

And so Melanie and Emma attended their first ever show at the Inveigle and, at least to Emma’s surprise, thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact, they were enthralled by the razzmatazz, the music, the costumes and all those lovely naked female bottoms getting spanked and even caned in front of their very eyes. Thereafter they became regular attenders at the shows, and always came away feeling very happy and distinctly aroused. Such were the ‘aphrodisiacal powers’ of attending an Inveigle show, they barely slept a wink on Saturday nights as they relieved each other’s tensions in ways that might shock many well-brought up young ladies!

It didn’t take long for Melanie to initiate Emma in the delights of spanking. After one particularly arousing show in which two new Inveigle girls, Samantha and Charlotte, first performed their special act, Melanie decided it was time to try something different with Emma.

As the two girls arrived back in their apartment after the show, they cast off their hats and cloaks. Melanie stoked up the fire and poured two glasses of wine before collapsing on the sofa next to Emma, giving her a long lingering kiss.

“Wasn’t the show this evening just brilliant, Emma?”

“Oh yes! It was even better than ever. I just loved the new act with that lovely pair of girls, Samantha and Charlotte. They both have such beautiful bottoms and Samantha certainly knows how to spank!”

“Mmmh! I agree. They were rather wonderful!” said Melanie, and then, after a long pause continued, “Have you ever been spanked, Emma?”
“No, never! Why do you ask?” replied Emma. “Have you?”

“Maybe!” said Melanie, in a rather evasive tone.

Emma turned to look into Melanie’s face, “What do you mean by ‘maybe’?! Either you have or haven’t!”

“Oh, all right. Yes, I have!” replied Melanie, with a little laugh.
“What was it like? Who spanked you? What did they spank you with? Was it on your bare bottom?” Emma rattled off a whole list of questions, suddenly eager to hear more.

“Gosh, so many questions, Emma! Well, if you must know, I was spanked on a number of occasions at my boarding school by one of the senior prefects. Most of the discipline was left to the senior girls, rather than the teachers. This particular prefect was very strict and feared by most of the juniors, but I rather liked her. In fact, I rather had a crush on her and sometimes would deliberately misbehave so that I could be sent to see her. I think she realised this, but didn’t let on. Every time I misbehaved, she dealt with me just like everyone else.”

Emma looked at Melanie, hanging on her every word. “Go on, Melanie, don’t stop there. Do tell me how she ‘dealt with you’ and don’t miss out any details!”

“You’re so impatient, Emma!” Melanie said, with a little chuckle. “When I reported to her study, she would always give me a good telling off before ordering me to raise my skirts and bend over her knee. She would then proceed to open my drawers so that my bottom was to all intents bared. She’d usually spank me with her hand, although she did sometimes use her hairbrush if she thought I had been especially naughty.”

“Did it hurt?” enquired Emma.

“Oh yes, especially the hairbrush. It stung like anything and soon had me in tears, howling my head off! But….afterwards, once the stinging subsided, a lovely warmth engulfed my bottom and spread to you know where! Invariably, it left me feeling very aroused and I had to rush to the privacy of the water closet to relieve myself as soon as she had finished with me!”

“Gosh! Well I never! Who’d have thought it?” said Emma, looking somewhat horrified and excited at the same time.

“Well after that revelation, I have another confession to make, Emma. As I reached the age of 18, I was appointed a senior prefect and, as you may guess, I got to spank a few of the junior girls in my charge.”

“Really? You actually spanked other girls? Crikey! …..I just have to ask…..did you…did you enjoy it?” enquired Emma, looking somewhat amazed by this second revelation.

“Oh yes! It was great fun, even more so than having my own bottom spanked! There’s nothing quite so exciting as having a nice plump young lady’s rump to redden wriggling across your knees!”

“I’m shocked! How can you possibly sound so pleased to cause someone else so much pain?” Emma said, trying to sound genuinely shocked, but failing miserably. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and lust, giving away her true feelings!

“Would you like to try it?” asked Melanie.

“Try what?” returned Emma, now the one being evasive.

“You know exactly what I mean, young lady, so don’t play the innocent with me! I’ve got a good mind to put you across my knee right away!”

Emma laughed, and then said, “Yes please! I thought you’d never ask!”

Melanie quickly seized the moment, “Oh, I see! So you’re asking me to spank you. Well, in that case, you’d better remove your skirt and petticoats, and then come across my knee.”

“Yes, Mistress, of course!”

Emma stood up and quickly removed her outer clothing and stood there in just her chemise, drawers and stockings. Melanie did likewise. It would be so much easier to spank her friend without the constraints of a corset, bulky dress and petticoats. She then sat down on the edge of their bed and patted her lap.

“Over you go, you naughty little minx!”

Emma slid over Melanie’s proffered knees, giggling nervously. She felt Melanie’s hand reach down to her drawers, pulling the sides apart as far as they would go. She could feel a gentle breeze of cool air wafting over her exposed cheeks as they ‘popped’ into view.

“Have I ever told you, Emma, what a lovely bottom you have?” Melanie said, stroking it gently with her hand.

Emma smiled to herself and giggled again, “No you haven’t… Mistress!”

Melanie continued to admire and caress her lover’s bottom for some time, but finally decided it was high time to introduce this virgin bottom in the delights of spanking.

She had decided not to spank Emma too hard this first time. It wouldn’t do to put her off at this stage of the proceedings. Emma needed to appreciate that a spanking could be an erotic act rather than just pure pain! After all, this was not meant to be a punishment.

Melanie started to slap Emma’s bottom just hard enough to make it sting a little and produce a little colour. She alternated her smacks between the two lovely mounds protruding through the split in Emma’s drawers, making them wobble like two pink jellies on a plate. It was a delightful sight. Emma seemed to absorb the smacks with ease and Melanie could feel her friend’s body relaxing across her knees.

“How are you finding it so far, Emma?” she asked.

“It’s actually rather nice. I’m beginning to see why you enjoyed your trips to that senior prefect’s study! My bottom is beginning to tingle delightfully. Even my pussy is tingling!” came Emma’s giggled response.

“Would you like me to start smacking your bottom a little harder now, Emma?”

“I suppose you could try,” Emma responded, “but please don’t get too carried away. I’m still getting used to the sensations!”

Melanie stepped up the intensity ever so slowly, each smack only slightly harder than the previous one. She kept a careful note of her friend’s reactions. As the smacks became harder, she noticed that Emma no longer lay passively across her lap. Her bottom started to squirm a little and she started to let out little gasps as each smack landed. Melanie also noted that Emma’s bottom was becoming steadily redder, no longer a soft pink colour.
Just as Melanie reached the point where thought she had better stop, rather surprisingly Emma suddenly turned her head towards Melanie and said, “Please Melanie, will you spank me really hard now. You can stop holding back.”

“Are you sure, Emma?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Go on, spank my bottom as hard as you can and keep going until YOU think I’ve had enough! Ignore my begging and pleading to stop. I need to know what a real spanking feels like! I need to know what all those Inveigle girls seem to get out of it!”

“You are a brave girl, Emma. Alright! If that’s what you really want me to do, then I shall. In that case, I had better lower your drawers right out of the way. I need to access the whole of your bottom and thighs if I’m really going to spank it properly!” Melanie responded excitedly, having been given ‘carte blanche’ to give her friend a real walloping….although, by the time she had finished spanking Emma, the term ‘carte rouge’ might have been more appropriate!

With that, Melanie undid the pink ribbon holding up Emma’s drawers and slid them right down. Then, abandoning all constraint, she really started to lay the smacks on with a will. Emma’s bottom leapt into motion, bucking and wriggling under the onslaught. She started to yelp loudly and tears started to run down her face as her bottom grew redder and redder. ‘This is more like it!’ thought Melanie, as memories of spanking junior girls at school came flooding back.

She continued to spank Emma long and hard, but Emma made no attempt to beg her to stop, despite her now loud howls and shrieks. Finally Melanie stopped feeling exhausted.

“There you are, Emma. That’s enough spanking for me. Even if your bottom can take more, my hand certainly can’t!” Melanie said, gently stroking her friend’s now well-reddened posterior. “Was your spanking as you imagined it, my love?”

Once Emma’s sobbing subsided, she rolled off Melanie’s lap and sat on her knee, giving her a big kiss and hug. “Oh Mel, that was perfect! It’s difficult to describe. It was such a confusing mix of pain and pure pleasure to begin with, but the pleasure eclipsed the pain in the end. Thank you so much! I really, really enjoyed it. Thank you, my love!”

“I’m so pleased. I enjoyed spanking you as well. I’ve wanted to spank you before, but until now I’ve never had the courage to ask,” Melanie said, kissing Emma repeatedly.

They sat quietly on the bed in each other’s embrace for some time before Melanie suddenly whispered in Emma’s ear, “Would you like to try the experience from the other side? Would you like to have a go at spanking me, Emma?”

“Oh, yes please. I thought you’d never ask. I think I might enjoy that as well and it’ll give me the chance of getting my own back!” Emma replied.
Emma jumped off Melanie’s lap and sat down on the bed. “Right, stand up then. Your turn to have your bottom warmed!”

Melanie stood up and Emma’s hands quickly reached out, unceremoniously pulling down Melanie’s drawers. Melanie just stood there now half-naked not moving.

“Get over my knee then, young lady. Don’t just stand there gawping at me!” Emma said, with a stern expression on her face.

Melanie complied, nestling herself comfortably across Emma’s knees. Emma wasted no time and began to spank Melanie’s bottom hard and fast. Melanie wriggled around a bit, letting out a few little gasps, but otherwise showed little response. Emma slapped away, but soon discovered that her hand was beginning to smart dreadfully and suddenly stopped.

Melanie turned her head and giggled, “Oh dear, Emma! Would your hand be hurting already by any chance?”

“Errr…well, if you must know, yes, it is hurting!” Emma replied disconsolately.

“There is a saying sometimes used by spankers, ‘this will hurt me more than you’!” Melanie said, laughing. “You might prefer to use my wooden hairbrush. Shall I get it for you?”

Emma, “Yes please! But won’t it hurt you too much?”

Melanie chuckled, “Oh yes, it will certainly hurt, but I think I can still take it. It won’t be the first time my bottom has been closely acquainted with a hairbrush!”

Melanie jumped off Emma’s lap and retrieved the hairbrush from the dressing table and handed it to Emma before repositioning herself across Emma’s lap. “Right, Emma…spank away!”

Emma did just that, walloping her friend’s bottom as hard as she could manage. This time Melanie responded just as Emma had hoped, bucking and wriggling, yipping and yelping loudly just like she had herself earlier. Emma was entranced by the sight of Melanie’s reddening buttocks writhing frantically across her lap and the sounds she was emitting. Clearly Emma was thoroughly enjoying spanking from the ‘other end’!

By the time Emma finally decided to put the hairbrush down, both girls were thoroughly aroused and couldn’t delay any longer. They stripped totally naked and leapt into bed, and then proceeded to give each other some of the best orgasms they had ever experienced in their lives. It was a long night!

Needless to say, spanking became an essential ingredient of their love-making thereafter. The sounds of loud smacks and cries emanating from Melanie’s and Emma’s room on a Saturday night after a visit to the Inveigle became a regular occurrence. It was just as well that their immediate neighbours were elderly and partially deaf!

Anyway, we have left Emma and Melanie for far too long sitting in the Inveigle bar. Let’s return to their quiet corner and listen-in to their animated conversation!

“What did you think of the two new performances tonight, Emma?” asked Melanie, taking another sip of Madeira from her glass.

“Oh, I loved ‘Gentleman Jack’. Despite the absence of any real spanking, I thought that Kate portrayed the character very well. She looked very fetching in her outfit, particularly with that top hat. I must admit, I wouldn’t object to having a session with her and her riding crop if I could afford it!”

“Really?” said Melanie, with a quizzical look on her face. “In that case, perhaps I had better drop into the saddlery shop and purchase a riding crop to use on you! What do you think, Emma?”

Emma laughed, “Put it this way, I wouldn’t stand in your way! Anyway, coming back to the performance, I really found her vivid descriptions of how she spanks her clients utterly enthralling and distinctly arousing. She has a way with words and knows how to play on people’s perverted imaginations!”

Melanie responded, “Oh yes, she certainly has a way with words, and I’m sure she also has a way with that riding crop of hers! I’d love to watch her using it on you. Now that would be very arousing! Unfortunately, as you say, we can’t afford to have a private session with her, although I suppose we could try to save up some money to do so later in the year?”

“Maybe, but it’ll take some time, especially if you squander money buying riding crops!” Emma replied. “Anyway, what did you think of the Tableaux Vivants act?”

“Oh, now that was rather good, in much the same way as Kate’s portrayal of Gentleman Jack, but with the added bonus of seeing those three naked ladies posing for the tableaux. I loved Kate’s descriptions of Herric’s drawings. They really made me look again at those wonderful images with fresh eyes and brought them to life. They’re incredibly erotic.”

“Yes, I would agree with you, Mel. I particularly enjoyed the final part of the act. You know, the bit after the final tableau when the audience groaned in frustration at not witnessing the girl actually being caned. Just as I thought there would be a riot, we were treated to the thrilling sounds of a cane swishing and thwacking away, followed by loud yelps from behind the curtain. Then, to crown it all, the girl’s red striped buttocks stuck out through the curtains, clearly displaying what we had heard was for real! I thought this was beautifully choreographed, a master touch!”

“Yes, that was a rather clever touch,” Melanie confirmed. “Anyway, I suppose we had better finish our drinks and leave soon, although I’d first like to have a look inside the souvenir shop in the foyer. Do you realise that we have almost been together as a couple for almost a year. I want to purchase something I’ve had a look at before to commemorate our relationship and all the happy times we have spent together here and at home.”

“Gosh! I didn’t realise we had been together for so long. Yes, let’s get something to celebrate our wonderful relationship, Mel! I wonder what you’ve been eyeing up?”

“Come on then. Drink up and let me show you.”

The girls left the bar and went to Mr. Trentham’s Emporium, the Inveigle’s souvenir shop, which by now was devoid of other customers. The shop was largely filled with colourful posters and photographic images of the various stars of the show, mainly in black and white or sepia. A few had clearly been hand-coloured. Melanie ignored all these and picked up a photographic album. Apart from the front cover, it contained blank pages on which customers could paste photographs from those on sale taken by Mr.Trentham, the Inveigle’s resident photographer. His work was much admired by all the Inveigle’s many fans.

“This is what I thought we could buy,” said Melanie, showing Emma the album. “We can purchase our favourite images, a few at a time when we come to the show each week. What do you think?”

“Oh yes, Mel. What a lovely idea. It’ll contain such lovely memories for us both, if you think we can afford it?” Emma said, in an enthusiastic voice.
Just at that moment, Abigail strolled into the shop. “Good evening ladies. It’s so nice to see you at the Inveigle again. You two must be our most regular customers.” Abigail had noticed this young couple from her box on numerous occasions sitting near the front of the auditorium. The Inveigle’s success depended on such ladies and she felt she needed to show her appreciation.

The girls turned round and curtsied. Melanie spoke up for them both, “Oh, good evening Miss Hayes. It’s so lovely to meet you. Your establishment is so wonderful, we really have a job to stay away! We just loved the two new acts tonight.”

“I’m so pleased you enjoyed them. We had such fun devising them, although it was mainly Kate’s idea.”

“Oh, Kate is such an incredible performer,” Emma gushed. “We’d love to meet her at some point.”

“That might be possible to arrange at some stage… I see that you are thinking of buying one of Mr. Trentham’s new albums. Perhaps, you might like him to take a few pictures of yourselves to put in it?” suggested Abigail.
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly afford that, Miss Hayes, but thank you for the suggestion,” replied Melanie.

“Oh, no ladies, I was thinking of letting you have a photographic session with him for free, ‘on the house’. You’re both such good customers, it’s the least I can do as a way of thanks. Besides which, Mr, Trentham is always on the lookout for what he naughtily likes to call ‘fresh flesh’, particularly if you’d be prepared to remove a few items of clothing and expose your bottoms! He is what you might call a ‘bottom connoisseur’!”

The girls looked somewhat taken aback by this last suggestion. To expose their bottoms in front of a man? They weren’t at all sure!

Abigail sensed their reluctance. “Oh don’t worry ladies. He’s a perfectly safe and honourable young man. Besides which, you’ll be chaperoned by one of my girls. You can even spank her or get her to spank you if you want a few ’action photos’ in your album!”

“Really? Oh thank you, Miss Hayes, thank you. It’s so kind of you to offer. We’d really enjoy that if it’s no bother?” Melanie responded enthusiastically for the two of them.

“No problem, Ladies. My pleasure,” said Abigail, smiling at the pair. She could see that both ladies had attractive figures and bottoms. They might just provide wonderful new subjects for Mr. Trentham photographic skills. “If you’d let me have your names and address, I’ll contact you with some suggested dates and times. Let me know which is convenient for you.”
Melanie quickly pulled out her little notepad from her handbag, wrote down their contact details and handed it to Abigail. “Thank you so much, Miss Hayes, we’ll look forward to the session.”

The two ladies were over the moon with excitement. Who would have thought that they were worthy subjects to pose for ‘the’ Mr. Trentham? It would be a really memorable experience to put into their album.

After Abigail left the shop, the two ladies chose several photographs to start their album before finally leaving for home. It had been a memorable evening in more ways than one.

Here are the photographs Melanie & Emma purchased for their new album, the first two of Kate as ‘Gentleman Jack’, and the third of Kate dressed as a maid about to be birched:

True to her word, Abigail did indeed arrange a photographic session for the two girls, assigning one of the Inveigle girls to chaperone them in Mr. Trentham’s studio. Determined to have some realistic shots, the two girls asked the girl to give them both a real spanking. It was so stimulating to be spanked by another girl and to be able to watch each other being spanked. They even went as far as accepting a proper caning from the girl. They couldn’t wait to see the results, all those lovely tramlines across their bare bottoms! Here are just a few of the photographs Mr. Trentham took of their marked bottoms, during their photoshoot:

A few days later, the girls received a note from Mr.Trentham to say their photographs were ready if they wished to collect them from his shop. When they arrived, they were met by Mr. Trentham in person. He showed them the photographs and they were delighted. He then went on to say, “You two girls make delightful models. I don’t suppose you would consider doing some more modelling for me? I’d pay you to do so.”

“Before I give you an answer, would you mind if we just had a private discussion with each other outside, Mr. Trentham?” asked Melanie.

“Of course not, my dear. Go ahead. Take your time.”

Once outside, the pair had a long discussion and finally came to the conclusion that they would model. They could do with the extra money and it might prove fun.

They returned to the shop and told Mr. Trentham they would agree to modelling for him. He was delighted. He then went on to sketch out an idea that they might like to try out. He burrowed around in a cupboard drawer and produced a small woodcut picture, clearly taken from an old book. It showed two entwined young ladies spanking each other simultaneously. One was using a mirror on the floor to watch herself spanking her partner’s bottom.

“What about a pose along these lines? I know that you both love spanking each other, but I bet you’ve never tried this before?” Mr. Trentham said, with a little chuckle.

Emma took the picture and looked at it carefully. “Gosh, Mel, that looks rather fun, don’t you think? I’ve never thought of doing that!”

Melanie took the picture and her eyes lit up, said “Oh yes, Emma, that looks like a really exciting idea to try out.” Then she turned to Mr. Trentham. “Yes, we’re very happy to try this.”

“Excellent,” replied Mr. Trentham. “I thought it would be rather fun if you dressed up as two young housemaids for the shoot. I’ve got an extensive wardrobe of clothes in my studio. I’m sure we’ve got something that will fit you both.”

“Oh yes, that sounds good to us,” replied Melanie again. “We like dressing up!”

Emma then turned to Melanie and whispered something in her ear. Melanie nodded her ascent. Turning back to Mr. Trentham, Emma then said in a slightly nervous voice, blushing like mad, “Neither of us has ever been spanked by a We were w…wondering whether we could be two naughty young housemaids and get some pictures of you s…spanking us together? Does that sound too outrageous?”

“Oh no, young lady, not at all! The only slight problem is that I can’t take photographs at the same time as spanking you!”

Emma looked disappointed, “Oh well, it was just a silly idea I had. Never mind.”

“Wait a moment,” said Mr. Trentham, “I’ve just had a bright idea. I’ve got a young lady apprentice who could take the photos for me under my instructions. She could also act as your chaperone, not that you need to worry about me. I’m a gentleman through and through!”

Emma’s face broadened into a big smile, “Oh Mr. Trentham, that will be most exciting! We’ll look forward to the shoot. When would you like us to come to your studio?”

“Would Saturday afternoon suit you both?”

“Yes, that would be ideal for us. Thank you.”

And so the photoshoot took place the following Saturday. Here are a few of the photographs that were taken, all of which they proudly added to their their album, adding a few comments to their captions:


Melanie spanking Emma

‘’Emma has such a delightful sexy bottom… I could spank it all day!’’ Mel xxx

Emma spanking Melanie

”I got my own back and eventually managed to wipe that smile off her face!” Emma xxx


Mr. Trentham spanking Melanie

“‘Mmmmh! He was such a gentleman!’’ Mel xxx

Mr. Trentham spanking Emma

‘‘He had a rather heavy hand, but it was most ‘stimulating’ . He made me cum!” Emma xxx


Mr. Trentham slippering us together with a leather slipper

“Gosh! Didn’t that slipper sting! He got rather carried away and our bottoms were very red and sore for several days, but what a memory!”

Asa’s Note :-

These photos are of me, from one of my videos, spanking Charlotte and Amber. I am a private man, please respect them, by not copying and using them.


The First Entry for Writing Competition No 4, is from Jean Marie

I love it Jean, thank you for your entry.

Asa’s Writing Competition #4
By Jean Marie

​Cherry sure seemed pleased and relieved to be allowed to step down from this cursed stool! I wonder if she could overhear my spanking while she stood on display? I don’t hear anybody getting a hiding… I wonder how long I’ll have to stand here? My bottom isn’t too sore any longer and I don’t think it’s red. I wonder if it’ll be bruised tomorrow?

​I feel so embarrassed, but surely, I’m not the only co-ed to become aroused during her punishment. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always fantasized about getting a spanking, and sure enough, the first time my bum is spanked, I got so excited. It’s all my mother’s fault for not spanking me as I grew up!

​“OH! You startled me! I wasn’t expecting you, Headmaster! I expected Miss Evans to dismiss me.”

​“Do you think you’ve spent sufficient time on the stool to have learned your lesson, Jean?” he asks as he caresses my bared bottom.

​“If you do, Sir. Thank you for taking the time and effort to correct my errant ways!”

​“Enough brown-nosing, Jean,” he mutters as he continues to caress my curves, now with both hands so that he’s parting my cheeks and gazing at the nether region up my crack! The old sod! Can he see my engorged sex, or the cream on my thighs? “I don’t think I’ve done a thorough job of spanking you, young lady. Please step back into my office…”

​Oh, fuck! “Please, Sir, your spanking hurt dreadfully! Truly, I’ve learned my lesson…!”

​“Back over the punishment horse, Jean. This time, boost yourself across it further; I want your cheeks parted for the strapping you have in store…”
​Twenty licks with the leather had my poor butt ruddy and on fire, but worse, it had my sex throbbing and near-orgasm. The Headmaster put the strap down to rub my burning flesh once more, parting me even more obscenely.

​“Just as I suspected, Jean; you seem to get all the more sexually excited the harder I punish you.” It seemed pointless to argue the point. “The only time that’s happened before was with Charlotte two years ago. Did you ever meet Charlotte, Jean?”

​“I knew of her, never met her. Pretty blond with a shapely figure, am I remembering correctly, Sir?”

​“Very accurate description, Jean. Charlotte and I worked out an arrangement, given her propensity to enjoy discipline, whereby she was made assistant to Miss Evans, got to do clerical work in my office instead of attend her last period class.”

​“That sounds heavenly,” I said before thinking. Then I cautiously added, “What must I do in exchange?”

​“Disciplining your superb bottom arouses you,” he said in a tone of voice I’d never heard before. “It happens to arouse me just as much…”
​I craned around from my ignominious position over the punishment bench to watch the Headmaster unzip his fly and release his rampant erection.

“My! You’re stiff… and throbbing… do you want me to suck you off?”

​“Do you know how to suck a man off? Ever done it before…?”

​“I’ve heard older girls talk about it…”

​“Then I think I’d rather put it up your ass crack…”

​“Not in my pussy?” I asked, trying to sound matter-of-factly casual instead of coquettishly suggestive. He shook his head. “Not up my butt?” Again he shook his head, but he released his eager erection from his pants.

“…Just hot-dogged up the deep crack of your magnificent ass, and with a little…” he no sooner thrust along the humid divide between my cheeks once or twice before he spurted a copious load of ejaculate onto my lower back and still-red butt cheeks. I reached back and rubbed the spunk into my inflamed skin. “I understand this stuff is good for the complexion…”

​“That… was… incredible!” the Headmaster gasped, suddenly exhausted but still enthused.

​“That seemed easy enough,” I added cheerily, hopping down off the horse.

“So, we have a date right here a week from today, and I’ll be in your office for assistant’s training on Monday at two P.M. Sound good?”

​This time the Headmaster nodded his head, still staring at my buttocks, never meeting the twinkling, mischievous look in my eye.

​“I think the rule is I’m supposed to keep my dress folded up and my knickers pulled down as I go back to my dorm, to show-off my marks to everyone along the way. But my butt is still quite sticky from your orgasm, Sir. Do you think I could…?”

​“By all means, put your uniform back aright, Miss.”

​“Thank you, Sir. And thank you for the stimulating strapping. I think I’ll go back to my dormitory and rub out a climax or two, thinking about the masterful job you did!” I blew him a kiss and made sure I put an extra wiggle in my walk as I sashayed away.